Francy's New Morning

Chapter 1   I waste ten minutes of my life and ruin my plans today just by being me. If my bathing suit had been easy to find, neatly folded in my drawer, Randi and I would have been running and jumping through the sprinklers by now. Instead, I have to empty my dresser, tossing butterfly underwear and mismatched socks across my rug for these crucial minutes. I find my bikini under the bed, the neon green straps wrapped around a naked doll and a lonely boot.             While I scramble into my suit and struggle with the knot, I hear Dad ask Randi the worst question ever. “How would you like to pose for a portrait?” Poor Randi is trapped. I know she won’t say no. So I hurry to warn her, “Dad makes it sound simple, but sitting still for fifteen minutes in that stuffy attic studio is worse than eating fried eel.” Randi smiles. “When did you eat fried eel? Maybe it’s good.” “You’re weird....

             A new screen door, siding and roof fixed, railing rust removed and repainted…these are just some of the jobs accomplished by Samaritan’s Purse volunteers over the last two weeks.   Imagine coming home from work each day to discover something else new or fixed or redone by the hands of angels. That has been our life since Samaritan’s Purse ministries started rebuilding our house in November 2013 from the damage left by Hurricane Sandy in 2012.   It’s been a long time getting back to normal living, but a time God has used for pruning. You can’t go through a storm like this and be the same person. Every time I ride my bike by the bay, I picture the water rushing in; I pass the recreation center that was used as a temporary donation and supply center with lines of people out the door; trees slant away from the ocean as if running from the surge of the storm; some homes were abandoned, unable to ...