I meant most.
When I could hear the wind over the sound of my fan (yes, I keep a fan going every night. I helps me sleep, and, as a bonus, it helps in hotel rooms of very cool but old hotels with very thin walls when the person right next door spends the entire night gagging and throwing up in their bathroom which sounds like it is in your room. You just turn that baby up on high and you are golden.), I knew right then and there that I was in an iffy mood. Iffy as in I-will-be-perfectly-pleasant-until-you-look-at-me-the-wrong-way. Anyway, I knew right away that this infernal wind, which I HATE, had most likely knocked over our trashcan and our recycling containers, spilling the contents all over the cul-de-sac, which would then blow all over our yard, our neighbor's yard, the street, and the next cul-de-sac. So even though I tried really hard to concentrate on my devotion, I kept hearing the wind and wondering if paper and boxes were all over the outside. That, and I kept picturing in my head a picture of Miranda Kerr's abs that I saw on Pinterest yesterday when I pinned "Miranda Kerr's Favorite Ballet Workout" to my Barre board. Why? I guess I'm jealous of her perfect abs and perfect smile and perfect everything else (except a perfect marriage, since I heard she got divorced from Orlando Bloom) and the image stuck with me. So even though I was reading about Samuel and Saul, I was thinking about trash and perfect abs. Which seems wrong somehow.
I finally went outside at 6AM to find my trash can and one of the four recycling containers knocked over and the boxes I had placed out the night before had performed a disappearing act. I suppose they are in someone elses yard, but they'll know exactly who they belong to as they have our name and address labels still on them. I put it all back together (sans the boxes, obviously. It'll be a treat to hunt for them later), but I was mad about it. Let me just tell you. A trash can has never received worse treatment for doing nothing but falling over in the wind, which it clearly cannot help.
I hate that thing.
Back inside, I opened up the Proverbs 31 website to read the devotion for the day, and who has written the devotion for today but Lisa-Jo Baker, a blogger with a huge following and a couple of books under her accomplished belt.
I almost didn't read it.
Jealousy. My mouth scowled. My heart hardened. And I looked at her cute little smile in her profile picture and almost rolled my eyes (but I didn't because I'm not 12, I'm 30-something, and 30-somethings do not roll their eyes). Of course. She gets to be accomplished. She gets to write a successful blog. She gets to write the devotion for the Proverbs 31 website. She probably got to meet Lysa TerKeurst, too. I narrowed my eyes and looked away. Then, with a sigh, I read the whole thing, and was secretly happy that she actually wrote the word "fart" in her devotion, because I don't even like that word and would never, ever use it in such a way. It's crass. So ha.
But as I put my books down and headed to take a shower, I knew my heart wasn't in a good place. Jealousy can make a person bitter and angry, and worse, vengeful and spiteful. I know I don't want to be that kind of person. (Most of the time.)
So I had to make myself pray for a changed heart.
See, I had just read that God changed Saul's heart in 1 Samuel 10:9, so I figured He can change my heart from a jealous, hostile heart shooting poison dart arrows at trash cans to one that is somewhat, and maybe even mostly, pleasant and agreeable. And when I read in Jeremiah 18 about Jeremiah visiting the potter's house, I knew that God could change me, too.
This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord:
“Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.”
So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel.
But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands;
so the potter formed it into another pot,
shaping it as seemed best to him.