Vertigo

Jo is out at her monthly book group. Tonight, she's leading; they're discussing David Guterson's Snow Falling On Cedars - one of the few books on our shelf whose continuing presence there is secure. I'm babysitting, and - as I do more frequently now when Jo is out - taking the chance to listen to music (a pleasure I deny myself when she's around, as she isn't really a listening-to-music kind of person - especially not when it is U2, which with me it would be more often than not). Right now, POP is playing in the background...

...

...Well, I was just about to write down some thoughts on how strange it is right now, being in limbo between where I am, and soon to be leaving, and where I am going, which I don't even know - when two things interrupted me. Firstly, I heard Susie cry out in the attic, and by the time I got up there she was running around her room in that caught-between-asleep-and-awake state, distressed, like a bird that flies in the window and gets trapped in a room. I gathered her up in my arms; she broke free and ran round some more, clearly distressed by some thing, some dark presence coming against her, most likely trying to unsettle her about our impending move; I gathered her up again, and told anything present that was not of God to go - and immediately her body went from taut to floppy, from being tense to being at peace. I don't go looking for demons, but I love exercising Jesus' power and authority to drive them away when they come looking for trouble.

Then, while I was still holding Susie close, the phone rang: a call I'd been waiting for, someone getting back to us to say they'd like to buy our house. Father, deliver us from evil; would you protect this transaction, give it smooth passage, and give smooth passage to those moving on and those moving in. Amen.