Stupor - Almost

There, that got your attention, didn't it?

The brutal facts are as follows: I had a rough week on a number of levels, none of which are life threatening, thank goodness. Still, annoying, time-consuming and, did I mention annoying?

So when I came home yesterday, my son asked what I planned to do with the open evening looming before me. He knew the answer before asking the question. Seeing his mother propped up in the recliner, spoon in one hand, peanut butter and two bananas in the other (yup, that's my idea of a binge now that I've sworn off sweets after the scale and I had an ugly tête-à-tête), he saw the handwriting on the wall.

"I'm gonna watch TV!" I announced with the tone of a cirrhosis-livered sailor threatening a two week bender.

My son knows me. He knew what my plans should have been, as I've been bragging all month about how Belabored, the novel God laid on my heart, is almost finished. He's been dutifully tracking its progress and spurring me on, bless his almost 18-year-old heart. But he also knows when to shut up and bring me another jar of cholesterol.

Thus, I commenced my four hour vacation with Jack Klugman, AKA, Dr. Quincy, the crime-solving coroner. He and I stayed put in my living room until the call of nature forced me to abandon my easy chair.

Once upstairs, I realized I had a choice. Being in no mood to dispense pearls of wisdom to as yet unknown readers of my would-be novel, I knew writing was out of the question. Still, I've been putting off reconciling my check book (another fascinating Friday night option), so I sat down and did that. Then I decided to ring up the phone company and get frustrated over their unwillingness to hand over a new cell phone for nothing but the simple joy of keeping me satisfied. I argued with them for about 45 minutes, vociferously proclaiming my good customer status and insisting it wouldn't break them to waive the $40 start up fee they now charge for upgrades. They didn't see it that way, but I did manage to heap a new resentment onto my growing list of complaints for the week. It's always nice to stay on top of things.

When all was said and done, I had paid bills, filed the PHEAA application, responded to old emails, and changed my sheets. I didn't do anything rash like make a meal for my son so he'd have a nice homecoming after a long day of school and work (I didn't want to get too carried away). But I'm pleased to say that those mundane chores, in an odd way, cleared the decks for me to get back to writing today. 

I'm learning that sometimes just doing the next right thing can, in my case, lead to the next write thing.


Check out Newsboys' Rescue

For more like this, check out: 

Morsels for Meditation...: To Whom Shall We Go?

Morsels for Meditation...: The Mom Thing

Complete the Work!

"And in this I give advice: It is to your advantage not only to be doing what you began and were desiring to do a year ago; but now you also must complete the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to desire it, so there also may be a completion out of what you have. For if there is first a willing mind, it is accepted according to what one has, and not according to what he does not have." 

2 Corinthians 8:10-12

I came across this passage recently as I was preparing for an upcoming writers' conference. Paul's words spoke to me when I first read them, and they're speaking to me now. I've made a lot of progress in getting ready for the event and could even say I'm at a stopping point, if I want to be. However, since I still have over a week, why not use the time to the maximum so as to have the widest net to cast, so to speak? 

There was a time in my life when I was governed by procrastination and fear. Those time-wasting devils haven't left my life completely (as evidenced by the video-fest I allowed myself last night when I could've been doing x number of more important things), but by the grace of God, they are far less prominent than they once were. I've learned that tomorrow is a nebulous, unpromised concept that may or may not a) happen or b) be available for things I ought to have done today. So now I to try to hit the ground running as soon as the final bell rings for school "vacations" and the like. I put that word in quotes because for years my definition of vacation was simply the absence of schedule and structure - in short, an excuse to fritter away time and God-given talent. 

There is certainly a need to turn off one's mind and leave off responsibilities occasionally. My problem was (and might be again, unless I take care), every bit of down time became the occasion. I'm reminded of a funny story my father once told. Upon voicing concern to his only living brother about his continuing to smoke despite serious health concerns, my uncle replied that he only smoked occasionally. Dad retorted that he smoked every time they were together, to which Uncle Irv quipped, "That's the occasion!"

My prayer continues to be that God would show me the schedule and priorities for each day, regardless of whether every moment is predetermined by outside forces, or if long stretches of time present themselves. I desire to not only begin projects He guides me to, but also to work diligently and steadfastly unto completion.

For more like this, check out: Reflections by Thea: To Whom Shall We Go?

Reflections by Thea: Awake!

To Whom Shall We Go?

I've been having a tough time lately. One of those tooth-pulling, gotta force myself to do what I know is good for me type deals. I've been able to trace the root of the problem, which is good, because that's half the battle. Now I've got to just stay the course, make good small decisions on a daily basis, which past experience suggests will lead to good large decisions if I remain focused on my faith walk.

The discomfort began when I learned of upsetting happenings in the lives of several other Christians. I'm not just talking prayer being needed for a second cousin who's having a tooth extracted. The events related to me involved major backsliding and outright denial of the faith on the part of lifelong believers. Because the news came as a clump, it was hard to digest, just as it's galling to swallow a whole plate of a distasteful vegetable. It's much easier to choke down a nasty food if we limit the portion size and mix it with something more palatable; all at once is asking for trouble. But when what's served up is not to our liking and in abundance, we have to find some way to stomach it. 

True to form, I chose to resort to my old faithfuls: entertainment and food. They've never let me down (except for the fact that they mess with my physical, mental, emotional and - oh, yeah - spiritual health). They've been rock solid and trustworthy for me. I always know when I spend quality time with M&M's that I'm gonna feel good for a short while (never mind that I'll have to shoehorn myself into my clothes for the next week). It's a sure bet the perils of Star Trek Voyager's crew will numb my mind for a few hours (but that won't help me deal with a crisis that explodes without warning in my own life).

The good news is, these periods of oblivion are getting shorter. I'm learning to turn to the One from whom I'm turning, so these "vacations" from God are of briefer duration. I realized quickly that my earthly gods were only sinking me further faster, so I began rallying sooner. I felt a little better yesterday when I put in some decent time with the Almighty, and today I feel better still. Lord knows it's not all about feelings, but for us sense-bound creatures, in many ways it is. We are what we are, which is dust,  and our perceptions shape so much of how that dust operates.


Do I hear someone whispering that I'm hiding my head in the sand? Not getting any real answers? Just sticking it out with a God who isn't strong enough to keep His own followers from defecting? It's a fair question and deserves a thoughtful answer. I'm not bowing down to a caricature or cartoon character with the substance of onion skin.The God I serve has been tried and found worthy by the likes of Mother Teresa, Corrie ten Boom, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King. I am proud and at the same time humbled to sit in their company, while engaging daily in the tasks my King sets before me. 

I can't be responsible for what others who wear His Name choose to do. The best I can offer - and all He asks for - is obedience, to the best of my flawed ability. 

For more like this, check out: Reflections by Thea: Awake!

Reflections by Thea: Complete the Work!

Grief

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable; if there is anything excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things." Philippians 4:8

I'm writing this post for my beloved sister Jane, who doesn't know it, but kept me from hiding under the covers today.

I've been in a bad place for a few days now. It started when I learned of the untimely death of a friend's young husband just two days before her birthday. The day before, a woman at church lost her husband suddenly. To top it all off, another friend just buried his sister after a murder-suicide. This is the THIRD family I know personally who have lost loved ones to violent crime - all within two years.

I'm beginning to think I'm a lightning rod for foul play.

In addition, my precious nephew Josh is on his way to Fort Benning to begin a three-year hitch in the military. It's essentially the beginning of his adulthood, the fulfillment of a dream he's had since he could talk. I'm not even his mother, but having a hard time of it. Feeling the empty nest syndrome, just as I did many years ago when his oldest sister left for college. When my son and visiting sister both went out last night, I could hardly stand the emptiness in the house (something I often cherish). 

So I tried to remove my mind from sorrowful thoughts through entertainment. I viewed two fact-based movies, both of which contained bittersweet elements. In my current state of mind, I'm dwelling on the heartbreak the characters experienced, rather than their joys. 

There is a healthy middle ground between empathizing with others' losses and wallowing in their misery. As a young girl, I found myself almost going through grief when friends did. When the mother of a high school friend died suddenly, I felt very bereft for some time. This might have been understandable if I had enjoyed a deep relationship with the woman, but I only knew her peripherally. My friendship was with her daughter, whose pain should not have overwhelmed me as it did. To counter this tendency, I learned to steel myself against heartbreak that was not my own; I could almost turn off the sadness of others, go beyond it back into my own life. Perhaps it's a positive sign that I'm returning to a more compassionate state of being, but I dare not let the sufferings of others engulf me as they once did. That is neither healthy nor productive.

I recall years ago when my own life was in a shambles and I had been trying in vain to find comfort. I made phone call after phone call, seeking consolation from every strong shoulder that came to mind. Exhausted, I wondered why my hours of yammering hadn't netted the relief I had prayed for. A voice spoke to me in my anguish, suggesting I call someone whose weak shoulders I might be able to shore up. As I obeyed, some of my own heartache began - ever so slightly - to ease.

All of which leads me back to my dear sister's entrance into my room this morning. I was frankly using the covers like a bomb shelter, trying vainly to deflect agony and pretending I would feel better if I allowed my mind to dissolve into unneeded sleep (which experience has taught me usually has quite the opposite effect). Jane interrupted my contemplated cop-out to ask me to pray for something that's been troubling her, and as we raised our worries to heaven, Philippians 4:8 began to take shape. We surely can't avoid pain, our own or others'. It finds us, as evidenced by my fruitless attempts yesterday to escape it. Yet, we can do something with the pain, rather than running from it.

Sure enough, as I was typing that last paragraph, the phone rang with a call from another dear soul who's also hurting on behalf of others. Together we laid our burdens before the great healer, who alone can bring solace both to those who grieve, and to those whose task is to help others grieve.

For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Grief 2

The Mom Thing

Oh, the joys that come with obedience. My son "rose up and called me blessed" last night ... and oh, how I needed that.

It's been a tough few months. Trials with parenting and home ownership have been demanding and costly. As a result, I've felt my energy flagging, and have been giving in far too often to the lure of "my drugs," AKA, my escape idols - food, sleep and TV.

Last night, after a particularly grueling day, I felt legitimately entitled to zone out. I tucked in early and pondered my options. Halloween candy was calling from my son's attic room, where I had hidden it from myself. The square box siren began its trilling thusly: "You know you deserve a good movie. Even a questionable one. You're a grownup. You can handle it. At least a sitcom. One of your favorites is probably on, and maybe the language and plot line won't be too crude this time. C'mon! What're you waiting for?!"

For those who may be new to my blog, I've explained before that food and entertainment are for me snares that lead to over-consumption and lingering, hangover-like symptoms that sometimes last for days. This may seem legalistic to some, but these things are traps for me, and I know it. Romans 14 does an excellent job of explaining that what one believer finds just a tasty morsel, his brother may encounter as a gluttonous, ferocious task-master.

Ah hem. Getting back to the point. I chose to ignore the seduction of the sweets, and tune in to a Charles Stanley message rather than whatever garbage was on TV. I got maybe 20 minutes into his "Fight Your Battles on Your Knees" when the phone rang. It was my older son, Aaron, calling for the second time in one day. He's been somewhat AWOL lately, so I was thrilled with this sudden burst of attention. Get this: he was calling to thank me for the faith-filled upbringing I had given him - not over-the-top, he stated, like the religious fanatics portrayed by Hollywood, but just a strong, Biblically grounded core - and added that, despite the many stressors he's encountering, he's been counting his blessings (another principle I tried hard to instill in both my kids).

Talk about over the top! I felt like I was on a mountaintop! How would my reaction have been different, I wondered, if this call had come in the middle of a food-fest hosted by moi, attended by Tinseltown's finest. One, I wouldn't have wanted to pick up the phone, since it would have interfered with my idol worship, and I never like to be interrupted during a worship service. Two, guilt would have intermingled with the joy that this news produced. Instead, I drifted off to satiating sleep after an hour-long, praise-filled, edifying dialogue with my son.

The mom thing? With God, I think I can do this!

Overcoming Inertia, AKA, Getting Off my Butt

Avoidance. I do it well. My kids have been suggesting lately that I get out and do more things, to which I respond that I like being home with them, and am more than ready to just crash on Friday nights after working all week.

So it was with a giant pry bar that I disengaged myself from the couch to go to my church's retreat this past weekend. I delayed packing. I gave myself an escape clause. And I fretted.

"I don't know many people. What's it going to be like spending a whole weekend with them?"

 I feel like I have new sisters now.

"Will the bunks be comfortable?"

 I won the toss for the only bed in the room.

"Will the speaker have anything valuable to say?"

Donna Ebert's talks on the spiritual disciplines of prayer, Scripture-reading, solitude and Sabbath rest were uplifting and challenging.

"And what about this yoga piece they're offering? I like the exercises, but how will I handle it if things become New-Agey?"

They didn't; Mindy Marcozzi-Drake of Agape Health and Yoga did an awesome job of keeping it God-centered.

"Will I keep my roommates awake by snoring?"

I stopped short of tossing earplugs into my luggage to spare my bunk mates, but not before scavenging through the linen closet for a pair.

All my fears were unfounded. I had a Spirit-filling, heart-expanding, body-nurturing, rockin' good time.

Guess it's good to get off the couch now and then...