Love Breaks Through

While I was driving to work recently, the Lord treated me to this dazzling sunrise:

As you can see, I snapped the photo through the windshield of my car, resulting in a shot which, while illuminating the sun in all its splendor, is also framed by the madness that makes up morning rush hour. 

The following closeup (well, as close as I could get to the star we all rely on for life and sustenance, as seen from the mundane perspective of a two ton hunk of steel) captures an extra kind of essence; notice that here, not only is the sun itself on glorious display, but it seems to be emitting a penetrating ray which cuts right through all the traffic and phone lines that complicate our daily existence.

Thankful to be stopped at a light, I grabbed my phone (another modern convenience which, while invaluable in its versatility and immediacy, can also divert our gaze from the most primary need humanity has - connecting with the Creator), and clicked away.

Reflecting on the sun's beauty amidst the chaos we call progress, I recalled a song by Keith Green, Your Love Broke Through. If I had had time to sit and marvel, I would have pulled over for as long as it took to meditate on the grandeur of creation, which is nothing more than a reflection of the glory of its Creator. But, you know, I had to get to work. And even if I hadn't been beholden to the almighty time clock, my day would've been cluttered with the thousands of things on that to do list that holds me captive, always promising an end, but ever expanding even as I tick off items.

Maybe it's time to revisit my last article pondering the tyranny of the urgent. Or maybe just breathe. I'm not necessarily referring to deep breathing, such as we're taught in stress management courses (although that can be helpful). No, what I'm suggesting is that we breathe the way Jonny Diaz's song, Breathe, suggests, by laying aside the urgent and taking whatever precious minutes we can find to just sit at our Lord's feet. Maybe even - heaven forbid - making time to marvel at His majesty. 

I know, I know. The why is obvious; the how is something else again.

I think it's different for each person. I find it helpful to wake up early to pray and read Scripture with a friend. Others' mornings may not be able to accommodate such rituals; my humble suggestion is to pray and ask the Lord to reveal the how that will work in your own life.

I promise you won't be disappointed.

 Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights! Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his hosts!

3 Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining stars! Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!

5 Let them praise the name of the Lord! For he commanded and they were created. And he established them forever and ever; he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away.

7 Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all deeps, fire and hail, snow and mist, stormy wind fulfilling his word!

9 Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! Beasts and all livestock, creeping things and flying birds! Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth! Young men and maidens together, old men and children!

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted; his majesty is above earth and heaven. He has raised up a horn for his people, praise for all his saints, for the people of Israel who are near to him. 

                                            Praise the Lord!

                                                - Psalm 148

My Take on the Tyranny of the Urgent

I didn't get Monday's to do list finished. Not even close. Lots of loose ends continued dangling, and I added one more for good measure - a popped tire. An act of sheer idiocy on my part - that's all I'm going to say about it.

After AAA came and changed my tire (this was my second claim in as many months - they'd better either make me a stockholder or revoke my membership), I fought off feelings of frustration and tried to work on updating my book proposal for Belabored. 

No, it hasn't yet been published. This is simply the newest iteration of my pitch to hopefully make agents sit up and take notice of a book I believe (if I do say so myself) has great merit and mind-changing potential. 

That said, the proposal at this stage is flatter than my tire was before the AAA guy swapped it with the donut.

Which reminds me - I'm not sure which is falling apart faster, my body or my car's. The tire has now been replaced, but poor Alex has more bumps and bruises than, well, than I do at this point, and that's saying something. My left shoulder is all out of whack, rebelling angrily anytime I tie on an apron or do a jumping jack (then again, my last round of calisthenics happened around the turn of the century, so no worries there). My right wrist, not wanting to be left out, decided to go on strike at the same time. 

But, hey, I can adapt. For instance, I can hold a glass in the left hand while directing traffic with the other. As long as I don't switch up the two, all's well. 

That'll come in handy if I'm ever called upon to bus tables during a pileup.

Getting back to to do lists, Tuesday's didn't fare much better than its predecessor's. In short, life right now is a series of unchecked boxes, a dog paddling routine, a waiting game. Too many agenda items, not all of them essential, but to me they feel important.

Following through on a promise I made to the guy who gave me stellar roadside assistance the other day. Lamenting the fact that I couldn't give him a tip, I took his card and offered to write him a good review. 

Review writing takes time.

Mailing out a check with a tip for the guys who skimmed my friends and me across the back bays of North Cape May last week. The boat ride was enchanting, but we didn't have a dime between us for a tip.

A few dollars, a few more minutes.

Getting this bleeping proposal tweaked and sent off to the publishing house which expressed interest back in June! Admittedly, I haven't just been playing Tiddlywinks all summer; the publisher suggested some market research to gauge interest might make the thing look more appealing to potential agents, so I've been doing that.

Time, time and more time. 

Financial business. Thank goodness I have finances to worry about, but that's just it - if I don't manage them, who will?

Ka ching! Time is money.

Someone once told me when God made time, He made enough of it. If only I could get my gut to agree with my brain on that piece of wisdom.

This blog entry pretty much wrote itself a couple nights ago when yours truly was trying to fall asleep. After taking care of the most pressing priorities, it was either type up my notes for this or work on the proposal.

I didn't even need to flip a coin.

OK, changing gears now. I no longer feel like being amusing (assuming I was successful in that effort in the first place). Having paused the article after that last sentence, I received news of a situation requiring my action in short order. Neither the circumstances nor the deadline excites me; quite the opposite, in fact. I now have a major new obstacle redirecting me from what I thought was my top priority, the book proposal (alright, so I back burnered that in favor of blogging - what of it?). 

I hear myself sounding whiny, and feel disinclined to change my tone. I am whining, doggone it! As I suspect is the case with many writers, it's extremely difficult to rouse oneself into the writing mode when one has gotten out of practice. Perhaps it's like riding a bike in some ways - the skill does come back quickly, but not without a few tumbles and the need to reacquaint oneself with the basic mechanics of the job. When that process keeps getting interrupted, the whole re-learning curve takes that much longer.

The Tyranny of the Urgent comes to mind. I once blogged about that subject, and am feeling the same kind of angst that I did then. 

My mother once pined after Dad was admitted, yet again, to the hospital through the ER, "Where do I go to accept this?"

I find myself reshaping Mom's question thusly: "Where do I go to prioritize all this?" 

The answer was then and still is the same: the cross.

"A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."

Proverbs 16:9

Wrapped Up in the Wrapping

Yesterday was a fine day.

I taught Bible study in the morning. While it wasn't my finest hour (I'm finding that sermons, no matter how inspiring when one is sitting in the pew, don't always translate well into group lessons), it did reflect my refusal to curtail the important in favor of the urgent.

Next, I did a few pressing chores (after all, Christmas is only a few days away), then went home and took a nap next to the Christmas tree. This seemingly dispensable activity comes under the category of what my brother-in-law once told my toddler nephew while filling his tiny mouth with a pacifier: "Here, Brian, don't forget your personality."

Never mind that unwrapped gifts are clogging every nook and cranny of my bedroom; this small concession to sanity is worth its weight in the gold those wise men brought to the Baby in Bethlehem (who, incidentally, also knew when to shake the world off His shoulders for a few hours).

Mental stability: one. Gift wrapping: zip.

A visit from my son, Aaron, his wife, Elise, and their newly-walking son, Luca (who just happens to be the only Christmas present I'll ever need), rounded out the day. Had I yielded to the urge to make stuffing and wrap gifts while they were here, I might have missed the opportunity to have an important talk with my kids, cook a meal with my daughter-in-law (whom I affectionately call my "labor-less" daughter, because she's just that wonderful), and witness my grandson climbing steps for the first time ever.

Family memories: one. Gift wrapping: still zip.

After they left, I puttered in the kitchen, trying to get a jump on the food I've promised for family gatherings over the next few days. I also checked in with a sick sister, as well as a dear friend who recently lost her mom.

Putting others at the top of the list: one. Gift wrapping: well, you know.

OK, true confessions time. I lost sight of the important while waiting for dishes to cool enough to stash in the fridge. Eschewing the leg and hip exercises which help my middle-aged body stay "oiled," for lack of a better word, I sat down with the TV remote and indulged in holiday nonsense till midnight. We're not talking classics like Scrooge and It's a Wonderful Life, either; this was modern drivel which I finally turned off after realizing I neither knew nor cared whether the star-crossed lovers would get back together for Christmas, yet I had allowed them to suck up precious time that my health and family deserved first crack at.

Holiday to do list: one. Gift wrapping, health and well-being: forget it.

I'm not beating myself up. A little down time is OK on vacation, and I give myself credit for ditching the show that was costing me sleep and serenity. But I do need to get back on track if I'm going to avoid feeling lousy in the new year because I prioritized poorly over Christmas.

In short, my goal over the next week is to bask in the glorious trimmings that accompany this magical time of year, while still making time for the day to day grunt work that enables me to enjoy it in the first place.

Bottom line: I hope to remain focused on the swaddle-wrapped Babe, as opposed to the wrappings the trash men will collect on December 26th.

For more like this, check out:

Thea, Thea 

Grinch Pinch

Jesus Christ, the Same Yesterday, Today, and December 26th

Low Branches