Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Everyday Nothingness

     The sun comes up. The sun goes down. Somewhere in between those 2 great events miraculous things are supposed to occur. Reading too many blogs-a full harvest of opinions and drama and intellectual teachings-can sometimes lead one to believe that without a great happening, then life just was so.......ordinary for you......

       I kinda like  ordinary. Some days. I don't often feel pushed to achieve because of others, I know when to move and when to sit. Usually. Ok, I'm lazy at the core. Seriously lazy. Which is why I do read too many blogs. Because it requires almost no brain power to keep sucking words in day after day....But do all those people really do all those things they advertise?

   Who cares. Where was I even going with all this?? I forget...because I'm lazy, remember?

 Anyhoo, today I had one of those days where even though I went to a lot of places, talked to plenty of people, took care of my children-fed them even!-worked a part time job, walked the dog, paid a parking ticket that wasn't mine, had coffee with friends and perhaps I even vacuumed, I did all these things but still felt like I accomplished NOTHING. Ever have that? Drives me nuts. Is it just a female thing? I've never heard a man complain about that kind of thing. In fact, that would be weird.
                                         Weird like this random picture of a BLT sandwich.

  So today I claim that my day was filled with the usual everyday nothingness. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing miraculous. Not even anything remotely creative. Ahhh......But, I can say that in all the average-ness, I did love. And listen. And help. And encourage. And those are often the most perfect days. Praise God.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Dogs Bark

     Newly divorced, I'm still lost in these woods. I recognize some of the trees, distinguished by their bark-their coverings that vary in beautiful color and texture. I know the maple and oak well. Firs outline the mountaintops. Fond particulary of Birch, I am taken by their peeling and chipping-seeming to be falling apart-yet made perfect by the Creator.

    I feel like that today. Made and Perfected by Christ, yet my spirit seems touchy and picky-not ready to be shed completely-pieces of me still cling. To me. Sometimes I pick at it like a bad sunburn. Pulling layers off in sheets here and there. Often, I'll prick a piece not quite ready to be removed and be shocked at the sensitivity underneath-the ouch and the pink. I'm so impatient for this to be over.

    But the forest envelops me. The tall, leaning figures cloaked in brown and green reach out to cover me, protect me. I feel strong surrounded by these aged wisemen as I watch their tops sway, caught in the wind. Suddenly, a dog barks. I lurch myself to safety up the trunk as quickly and clumsily as I am able in this older flesh-frame. The barking gets louder. Closer. Truer. Under.

   I dislike mad dogs and there's one beneath my position snarling, growling, showing his menacing grin. Having learned this lesson before-Praise God!-I clambor up two more branches to more than just out of reach. I still see the dog, but can rest assured since canines can't climb. His barking intensifies as he realizes his teeth aren't going to taste my flesh today. The arms of this Tree hold me. This sanctuary protects me. And I realize this is the safest place to fall apart, to shed my bark.

   Some time passes and the dog tires himself out with his foolish game. It's not really me he wants. He isn't finding what he needs to seek out. He's just an animal until he's willing for his Master to reign him in and love him and train him.  I know this. I used to bark too.