Return

Today, the question came: What one part of your soul do you most wish to see returned to God? The part you most want to see as it was meant to be?

Discipline. A follow-through-ness. An ability to push through pain/discomfort to reach a goal. Discipline.

And so, I reach for "the rock that is higher than I."

Morning: Psalms 50, 61, 3
Ecclesiastes 2
Romans 7:14-26 (I tacked on 15-26)
Isaiah 58 (so good)
Matthew 6:1-18

Evening: Psalms 15, 92, 69
Jeremiah 17:5-14
Daniel 9:3-10
I Corinthians 10:1-13
Luke 5:33--6:10

1928

You know those long-range items on your to do list that, require time to resolve--and here, I mean months and months; they pester throughout the day--like a constant nagging--and have significant consequences--either victory or near negligence. I resolved one of those today. And despite my aversion to onomatopoeia, ...whew.

But I'm sitting here feeling quite foolish. Worry is a parasite. A joy-sucking, fear-mongering, sometimes immobilizing lie.

Psalm 78:1-39/78:40-72 [morning/evening]
Genesis 26:1-33
Hebrews 13:17-25
John 7 [I increased this myself...I'm behind.]


Programming Note: I used a birthday present (Amazon Gift Card! thank you friends!) and purchased a 1928 version of The Book of Common Prayer. I had been wanting one for some time--at some point, I read something in one of Madeleine L'Engle's books about only using this early 20th century version. I'm still looking for the passage which made me think so, but there are quite a few changes! The most obvious being that the readings are equally distributed between morning and evening. At any rate, I plan to switch on Ash Wednesday--the beginning of Lent.

Discipline

The Superbowl is on and I'm not watching. Not intentionally. I was just caught up in trying to get it done--so to speak. While it embarrasses me to say so, I'm a remarkably undisciplined person. Life is full of great ideas, goals, and projects--inevitably, I begin several, attempt to meet impossible standards, and eventually move "it" to the back burner. For the past several months, the goal has been to finish. Just finish. Before moving on to something else. Focusing on the task at hand. Giving it my full attention--or as close to full as possible. Over all of this--I want to be aware of what's important, what requires my attention and what just sucks me in. I want to bear down on my gifts.

We've been talking about "calling" at church. One of the things I love about my 30's is perspective. In some ways, calling can be elusive--but sometimes it's just whatever sticks. Words have stuck to me. I teach about them, I write with them, I think about them, I explain them. But, what I lack is discipline. And here's what I'm wondering, if living in our calling requires us to recognize that our worth is found only in Christ, then we must immerse ourselves in that reality. Such an immersion requires a discipline of remembrance, constant referral to truth, whole faith.

Psalm 93, 96; 34 [morning/evening]
Genesis 24:50-67
2 Timothy 2:14-21
Mark 10:13-22

Blogging

What I'm about to write will plainly reveal the amount of confidence I have in this blog...but, here goes: I'm not sure how much I enjoy this process. There's the pressure to actually do it. The journal-esque quality that I don't want it to have. The way it affects my reading--"ok, so what here among the four options [Psalms, Old Testament, Gospel, New Testament] will spark my interest enough, merge neatly enough with my day, allow me just enough insight to throw something down on the screen." And to be honest, I haven't enjoyed those feelings and thoughts. After all--it ties everything here into a ridiculously small package...just that which would fit inside my head. My head...that's it right there. I don't want to end there--ever.

I don't want my own understanding of the world to be just my own. It's boring. Sometimes very skewed. I don't want to interpret events through a lens I can't let go of. Because the truth of the matter is that I'm not completely satisfied with my understanding or interpretations. And the older I get, the more I don't want to be at the center of anything--attention or action or thought.

Psalm 72/Psalm 119:73-96 [morning/evening]
Genesis 22:1-18
Hebrews 11:23-31
John 6:52-59

Snow Day!

Today was a special sort of snow day. My dad picked Luke up this morning for a day of fun in the snow. And I had the day and the house to myself. I listened to NPR. I methodically graded my students' essays. I drank countless cups of lukewarm coffee. I watched birds eat seed Cory threw on the snow. Truly--it's been four years since I've had this sort of day: not a work day, no responsibility, no schedule, pajama clad, whatever-I-want-to-do day.

And I do feel refreshed. I felt the same way after Christmas vacation. It was a different sort of break this year. In the past, I remember returning to work sometimes more worn out than when I left. But this year I returned relaxed, rejuvenated, and clear-minded. We had a beautiful Christmas. Busy. Sometimes stressful. Completely unscheduled. And I think we, my husband and I, just decided to go with the flow. And there's something to this that I'm finding necessary for happiness in our day to day life. I haven't been able to put my finger on why those two weeks in the end of December were different until today. Read the passage from Hebrews first.

Psalm 56, 57, 58/64, 65 [morning/evening]
Genesis 19:1-29
Hebrews 11:1-12
John 6:27-40

Snowed [Iced] In

It doesn't take much to get snowed in here in the South. But despite our tundra-state, I'm disappointed. Yesterday evening you would have watched my hopeful trot to the sliding glass door, a nose pressing to the glass, and dejection fall across my face. The snow just wouldn't come. I woke up at four am to check. An ice glaze. And then--this morning (at a more decent hour)--more ice. Over the course of the morning, snow and sleet mixed together and turned the deck, our yard, the road into an ice rink.

We crunched through the woods this evening without direction--truly--we let Luke lead. Everything in the woods was coated in a thin glaze of crystal clear ice; and at some point, the farther we walked, the more it felt like we must have wandered into Narnia or Middle-Earth. Luke was a fearless leader--briar patches were tunnels, hills were mountains, ice patches became glaciers. I brought up the rear of our procession, and occasionally, Luke would call, "You ok Mommy?" And I would respond with confidence. "We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved." [Heb. 10:29]

Psalm 55/138, 139 [morning/evening]
Genesis 18:1-16
Hebrews 10:26-39
John 6:16-27

Fullness, part 3

It will be ok, but this is hard. Yesterday afternoon, we rushed Luke to an urgent care with a fever of 104. The cause? Strep and pneumonia. I wish I could say I never saw it coming, but I did. At any sign of illness in our boy, dread rushes in and I begin to expect the worst. After my last blog, I realized it may have appeared like I was overreacting to a common cold. But last December, we rushed him to the emergency room (after a case of strep) because his entire body was swelling to the point that he was unrecognizable. The most frightening part of this experience for me was the fact that no one--no one--knew what was wrong with him for nearly 24 hours. While doctors were sure it was a reaction to an antibiotic, everyone had read about this type of reaction, but no one had ever seen it in person. After that experience, even a runny nose makes my heart beat faster.

Right now, I'm just tired. But if someone could see my soul and paint what they see there, I'd appear passive, with my hands down, resolved just to follow through. This, of course, is outside of normal for me. I only read one article about pneumonia today and I haven't imagined a hundred worst-case scenarios. I just don't have the energy. Instead, I've been thinking about a reading from Genesis from yesterday (does that break the rules?).

Abram and Sarai left for Egypt to escape a famine in their own land. Abram, nervous over the Egyptians' possible reaction to Sarai's beauty, persuaded her to call herself his sister instead. The result wasn't good--the Pharaoh was attracted to her, did take her into his house (which I can only assume meant sexually), and was struck with disease afterward. Abram was forced to confess and leave. But this is what gets me: Abram thought he might be killed if someone desired Sarai and knew she was married. But no one killed him after they found out he wasn't her brother. (Not to mention the fact that their diseased state was caused by his dishonesty.)

And so, it occurred to me that Abram was really anticipating a bad situation without being assured of its likelihood. I'm not an ancient history or Bible scholar, so perhaps I'm missing something, but this story reminds me of all those occasions where I imagine a terrible outcome, practice a script in response to that situation, predict a myriad of consequences--all based on what I suppose could happen. Quite simply, I don't want to do that anymore.


Jan. 23: Psalm 30, 32/42, 43 [morning/evening]
Genesis 12:9-13:1
Hebrews 7:18-28
John 4:27-42

Jan. 24: Psalm 63, 98/103 [morning/evening]
Genesis 13:2-18
Galations 2:1-10
Mark 7:31-37