Our internet at home is bad. Way bad.
For the past four "Last Hundred Days" posts, I've had to wait until the early mornings of the day after because during the evening hours, I might as well be using a dial-up.
Which is why I truly believe, if there is such a thing as a real devil, he (or she, I suppose) was actually the mastermind behind computers and internet. There is nothing that can question or steal my salvation faster than when these two things, in tandem, don't work properly. I'd rather they both just go to hell.
And the stakes rise even further when I'm trying to fill out a job application.
Around 11:30 or so, I stumbled across another job opening that would be closing in the next day or so, so I decided to pump it out and get it over with, not knowing what the next couple days would hold.
But I forgot about the devil, and that he has many friends.
China is not America. Sending my kids "outside to play" does not mean them heading out to the backyard or nearby park. Often it means heading upstairs to our rooftop. Which then means them "mining" or Judah building. Both translate into an erratic yet consistent banging that seeps to the depths of my soul.
And with slow internet and irritating applications, this is bad.
Because I am not the perfect dad. So I ran up the stairs, several times, and asked in a not-so-kind way to STOP POUNDING!!!! several times. Once, I literally only made it back to the front door before having to head back up and take away the hammer.
Each time I went upstairs, my heart dropped a bit because playing upstairs is not what I've envisioned for my kids. I grew up with a giant backyard, a beautiful outdoor fire pit, BB guns, basketball courts, and fresh grass. Judah has made a gun out of a broken PVC pipe, after giving up on making a fire.
So after a few failed attempts at the internet, and questioning whether the Lord could forgive the thoughts in my head, I closed the computer, grabbed some lunch, and headed upstairs.
Building a fire on our rooftop is not like building a fire anywhere else. Most of the wood has been scavenged, is a bit rotted, and none of it smells like pine. Plus, the pit is entirely too small.
But my kids love it.
The internet isn't what I want it to be, the upstairs isn't the "play outside" experience I've envisioned for my kids, and this Sunday isn't going as planned, but it is what it is, and with only 82 days left in China (and then, hopefully, many more days on Earth after that), I don't want to waste a single one.
While Josey took a much needed nap . . . without the pounding.