You're right, I know you're right...

Sometimes I hit these introspective moments that slap me in the face. Its like I've been lazily sleeping on the job just doing the routine; or I realize I didn't put on shoes for the day or brush my teeth. I just wake up for a minute, get out of my sleepy body, look at it and say 'what are you doing!?' Then I get back into my body and crank it into gear. I don't know how it happens. How I make it from one of those moments back into slumber mode but it does and I feel sick when it does.

I've been told that the devil likes to work in babysteps. He sees a slippery slope and slowly moves us down, and down, and down until we don't know how we got there. He's a sly dog. He's a jerk. He knows exactly what he's doing and deliberately works to get us down. Its tough work, manipulation, it has to be deliberate or we wouldn't actually make it to the bottom. We'd wake up before getting there and just jump back.

Life is never just going to happen. You don't just wake up and you're the ideal self one morning. The same tough work of manipulation can be countered with deliberate pursuit of the ideal self. The self God created you to be. This self takes deliberate action to crack into and be whittled out; it takes watering and pruning; it takes dusting and buffing; it takes caring and keeping; it takes sweat and tears. But luckily, we don't have to do it alone ("My yoke is easy and my burden is light"). We don't have to take deliberate steps on our own. The battle is won. We simply have to make the choice to take up the yoke and walk in victory each day.

Sometimes we get stuck in our chains. Sometimes we chose our chains because they feel comfortable. Sometimes its scary to be free. People don't know what to do with themselves. I don't like the idea of being in a cage that I hold the key to, that just sounds mental.

Henri Nouwen

"The movement of God's Spirit is very gentle, very soft—and hidden. It does not seek attention. But that movement is also very persistent, strong and deep. It changes our hearts radically.”

clocks

I really like silence. I like it when the house is quiet and it feels like no one is around and you can hear the passing cars and their fading echos. I like listening to the refrigerator buzz and hearing the heat turn on. I like hearing myself breathe and the sounds of my belly growling or processing whatever I just gave it to ease the growl. I like it when its quiet. I like listening to my thoughts, even though at times they drive me to prayer because I know I'm over thinking something or can't figure something out. It makes me thankful. Because I reach a feeling that I can't do it and without that "I can't do it" feeling, I wouldn't embrace my need for God or the power He wants to flood into my life.

One thing I do not like to hear when its quiet is the sound of a clock ticking.

My mom loves clocks. I remember having a sleepover and realizing just how much she loves clocks. As we went to bed, my friends and I were forced to level with an army of ticking in the darkness. I remember going around the room gathering clocks and returning to find there were MORE. I think I found 9 clocks that night in our living room.

Ticking clocks are a reminder that time is passing. I don't want to think about time passing when I'm trying to enjoy silence.

In small group we've been covering many topics, but all in relation to the church calendar. The church calendar is based on the idea that time is sacred. God wants to interact with us in unique ways in time. His spirit can even be present in seemingly different ways in various seasons. The significants of each event on the church calendar is to heighten our awareness of God's presence in those seasons.

So I find it interesting that the only thing that bothers me in silence is a ticking clock. If I embrace time as an eternal creature who is gaining time then I shouldn't be bothered by a ticking clock. But I think of it as a loss. I think of it in monetary terms-spending time, wasting time, time management... I feel like the ticking clock is nagging me, "What are you doing? You have things to do today, you can't just sit there in silence." This view of the ticking clock distracts and takes away from my reaching the afore mentioned need for God in my thoughts, the "I can't do it" feeling.

Therefore, I choose to view today as eternal. I choose to live in it as if it were adding to my life, not taking away from it. I choose to live as if the things I do today shape the things I do tomorrow and the next, and the next... They don't have to be epic. They don't have to be "big moments," they just have to be baby steps forward in the time God is giving me. He set the sun and moon into existence, one to govern the day, and one to govern the night. And time was established. So let the clocks tick. They don't bother me, they are only counting the time I'm gaining, 4 years, 12 years, 22 years, 44 years, 94 years... Bring it. I ain't got nothin' but time.

Just water it.

At 28 degrees with 11mph winds, it feels like 18 degrees in Marion, IN today.

Such a terrible day for me to wish it were summer.

Why does the grass ALWAYS seem greener? Why do we always wish for the things that we don't have or can't experience in these moments? What's wrong with all the cool stuff we can experience?
Living in the present is such a gift.
I choose to be present today. I choose to wear a scarf and jacket because I wanted to do that this summer and I was stupid because it was tank top weather. I choose to embrace my Wednesday off of work because I won't have it this way for long. I choose to look to the future with excitement and not despair that I can't have the future stuff right now. I choose to pray and wait for the things God has yet to come, but not to linger in those thoughts. I choose to trust that God is bringing those future things in due time. perfect time.  

"The grass is greener where you water it."

Cheese quote, but so true.

On Letting Go

One of my dearest friends (coughcoughAnneJohns) wrote the poem below. I always love reading it. Luckily, this morning I found it randomly tucked away on my computer (as was my hope in tucking it- that it would I would be able to discover it once again).

On Letting Go

I have a tendency to grab

onto fragile things

like stems of dandelion seeds

I hold them tightly

block the breeze

worry they'll be swept

from my tightly clenched fist

my crushing grip achieves

more damage than my fear

disfiguring the treasures

that I hold so dear

but when I allow the wind

to whip them from my hand

I watch them

spreading, rooting, flourishing

when I've let them be

I find them growing up all round me

little yellow jewels

the wind served well

that wouldn't have ever grown

if my hands had not let go