ords I'm reading—  My second husband's death, a long and agonizing process, made me unutterably grateful to God for plain, ordinary housework.  It was just cooking for him—and racking my brains to come up with menus he would be able to enjoy at least a little bit—and cleaning and washing his dishes and clothes and sheets, carrying trays, keeping track of his medicines and answering his letters that got me through.  I would find myself thanking God for a pile of dishes or laundry.It is the one for whom a job is done who gives it its meaning.  Of course I was not thinking about frying pans or laundry detergents when I was frying an egg or washing. I was thinking of Add.  As the disease progressed, however, he became extremely depressed and no longer wanted to eat, to be read to, bathed, dressed, or cared for in any way.  I was like the "trouble of Israel" to him, and he told me so.  Nevertheless the work still had to be done.  Even when he was at his worst and I was barely able to get through a day, the work was there, and by the grace of God I did.  When I remembered to look up instead of around me and to offer the work to the Lord, it was much easier and more pleasant." ~ Excerpt from Discipline: The Glad Surrender


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