Sleep...It's Not All That!

I love snow when it's falling.  I even love it after it sticks...as long as it's off the roads in a considerably short length of time.  Snow may be the best thing about winter...or the only thing.  Well, there's the bug kill-off, but I'm not certain if that actually happens.  Probably some attempt to make us feel better about freezing temps without snow.

Cold temps and short days make for excellent excuses to nap.  That is, unless you have a demanding job or family or if you find yourself in a persistent, chronic, irritable and totally dysfunctional sleeping pattern that has appeared out of the blue.  Memories of sleeping late on Saturday mornings are so faded, the possibility of them being real is in question.  But I YEARN to experience them again!  Apparently, sleep patterns change as we age.  Who knew?  And, yea!

Regularly fortified with Advil PM, the first hour of bedtime is more or less comfy and sleep is somewhere right under the surface line of daydream and wakefulness.  With one cat at my feet or curled next to my body, the second cat proceeds to tiptoe - yes, it can happen - between my hubby and me to stop between our pillows.  The purring is loud and I am bemused.  Until turning onto my side and finding within centimeters of my face a very furry head with whiskers....which is LAYING on my pillow!

Unable to sleep in one position long, the constant turning and repositioning seems to be annoying to the  felines - bless their hearts - and effort is made to disturb as little as possible and avoid stripping all the cover from my blissfully sleeping spouse.  Right.  Stretching out one leg to still the arthritic stabs announcing their rightful place, I am suddenly pushing against a brick wall...nope, it's the Sassy cat who has decided she cannot share a pillow with restless me and has looked for a roomier space.

Then there are the innumerable trips to the potty...I must stop drinking sweet tea at bedtime.  Each time, disentangling myself from the lounging animals, sitting on the edge of the bed looking sideways at the clock (never look directly for the disappointment of the early hour will produce in-som-ni-a), the cats think I am getting up to feed them and begin to meow.  Shushing them as quietly as possible, tip-toeing quickly across the tile floor (cold!), keeping the eyes closed as tightly as is safe, the errand is finished and I am once again in the bed...with the sleeping husband and two cats who take as much time getting comfortable again as me.

This routine goes on through the night until exhausted, I relinquish the bed for a walk through the house and a cup of coffee.  I have gone from a sleepy head you had to drag out of bed to an aging lady very familiar with four o'clock mornings watching the dark turn into light.  Amazed that my life could span such extremes, I am reflective, valuing my time and thankful to be alive, albeit a tad sleepy.  

I'm thinking the Lord knew I have wasted too much of my life in excessive sleep.  So, it's over.  Time to do and think and reflect and respond.  Time to experience pain which makes for more compassion for those who ache pain and misery, even of the mind.  To honor those of the golden years because of the graver appreciation of wear and tear, the slowing down of processes, both physical and mental.  To understand and commiserate with the woes of others.

As I regretfully yet forcefully  leave the comforts of my bed, I realize that the bodily discomforts of bad make way for good...as in more time to turn inwardly for assessment, evaluation of shortcomings and needful confessions, and perhaps an adjustment of attitude in acceptance of things out of my control.  I'm thinking the Lord knew I needed this...and I am thankful.

From Dark to Light

Early Morning Riser is a term never applied to myself.  Loving the sound of it and appreciating it in others, the value itself has not held the allure for me to rise up and leave that comfy bed.  Memories of late mornings, especially Saturdays when the kids were elsewhere, are distant now.  Gone is the luxury of lazy stretching, contemplating, and the slow assent into mornings.

Lamenting my loss of leisure and berating Mr. Arthritis, the recent thorn in my flesh, a beautiful and treasured awareness has taken place over the past year.  The darkness that greets me outside this sunroom embraces me like a cocoon.   The house remains quiet with only the sound of Mother's pendulum clock breaking through my consciousness, and with that, too, receding rapidly.

Reaching for my laptop and catching up on the last night's events keep me occupied, along with that first cup of coffee, of course.  

Then it catches my attention...that first awakening of the tiniest bit of light.  Changing imperceptively, I realize God is slowly starting my day.  No birds yet pierce the air with their talk, no movement even in the cattle next door.  A peacefulness invades my world, and I am oh, so content! 

The earlier darkness had clothed me in assurance, but wasn't it because of my stable position indoors?  If the darkness has surrounded me in the middle of a field, wouldn't the effect be certainly one of unprotected, insecure and endangered?  Does the walled and windowed sunroom dispel the illusion of safety?  Because I desire to believe in the safety of my own home, I push away any thought of invasion of privacy or intrusion.

How easily one can believe and trust in one's feelings and justifications...to rely on self-worth, pride and self-indulgence.

Since the beginning, man has desired and pursued a god-like appearance, intelligence and power. Believing himself to be superior in intellect, too many have scoffed at any notion of a supreme being and savior of the world.  Belittling and scorning the "peasant" style faith, theories and hypothesis become their truths, likening themselves to the truly enlightened.

Sad that the efforts of these intelligent individuals were not directed at espousing the Bible truths, that the "light" in enlightened refers to the blazing love, truth, passion, and totally devoted savior of our entire world!  

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”                              John 8:12 (NIV)

The darkness in these early morning hours has become familiar to me now.  I am not afraid.  Not because I have come to trust the dark, but to embrace the light!  Thank you, Lord, for the blessings of each new day, for the increased awareness of your deity, your sovereignty, your sacrifice, your love and graciousness.  Thank you for my sight of your lightness and in my words and actions, may I always reflect your glory!

Faith in Decisions

It took me some time to appreciate the dark color…very trendy, more practical for sure.  The newness was the allure.  I like new.  It may be one of my greatest weaknesses…a new car.  I actually get restless every four years or so and begin noticing styles as I drive, my appetite growing.  And then the justification begins.

Need can be honest but also misunderstood.  What is luxury to one may be essential to another.   Yearning to be satisfied with need, but drawn by the want, the pros and cons begin listing.  Yes, I bought my last vehicle on want…sporty, fast, zippy, fun.   Never mind that the back seat exists but not functional for most adults.  Never mind that the trunk storage is cute but holds…well, not much!  Never mind that my husband cannot comfortably drive it, but then he has that big SUV, doesn’t he?

So, the hunt begins for a more practical, sharable vehicle for the two of us…another SUV.  And the perks of new electronics, more buttons and whistles call my name.  Spending endless time researching online, visiting and driving vehicles, talking and considering and driving and talking.  My husband supporting me in whatever I choose, my mind reeling from stats and reviews, I realize that my reluctance to make a decision may be coming from a different source.

The selfishness of want is astounding and certainly does not mesh with my spiritual growth.  It staggers me to realize how selfish I can still sometimes be, how quickly I attempt to take control of my life without consulting the only One who is in control!

With relief, I voiced my decision last night to not pursue a trade at this time.  My loving husband accepted it without question, ready to go or stay with whatever decision I made.  I need to take this moment, again, to thank the Lord for the many blessings in Terry…as my husband, as my friend, as a man who truly loves me as himself.

I began my morning not fretting over car reviews, prices and perks, and what a relief it was!  Actually happy that I could devote my day to our new church website, the load from my shoulders was real and refreshing.   Reading a devotional this morning, the reference to this verse spoke volumes:

...For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.   Romans 14:23 (ESV)  

Selfishness can be portrayed in many ways…in wants versus needs, in an unhealthy desire to be right, but it can never be active in faith.  My faith tells me when my desires are centered far away from the life God wants me to live.  His Spirit prompts me to remember who has called me and what His purpose is for me. 

The uncertainty of the wisdom in my quest, the concern of burdening us with another expense, the knowledge of past mistakes, wondering if the funds spent here would alter what benevolence we might do in the future…the fact of not even considering God’s will for my life…all these thoughts going round my head ended in a decision that sits well with me today.

Will that decision remain?  Will an exceptional deal be offered to us later on?  Will our needs change and call for another consideration?   Only God knows.  But if that situation arises, I am confident that my first thoughts will be what He wants for my life and not my own vain desires.

Too Proud Not to Tell

Intelligent, capable, self-assured, with a healthy dose of humor and humongus heart...these are the qualities that attracted me first.  Laughter has saturated our days and lightened my heart on many occasions.  A great teacher, always patient when I hard-headedly cling to my self-defeating purposes, he is my rock, my best friend.

Following his lead has taken me over roads I would not have traveled on my own, adventures better left to the adventurers!  He has brought me out of my shell, nourished and gently prodded me to take a risk and enjoy the ride.

But never have I loved him more than today, love the man he has become in God's church!  I watched and listened as he spoke kind, loving words to a grieving family, words of encouragement and hope of a completely trustworthy Lord, celebrating the life of a man he knew not well, but loving him and his family he spoke from his heart.

His faith encourages me.  His growth encourages me.  His teaching inspires me to greater knowledge of God's Word.  His love for me envelopes and protects, but it is his love of the Lord that fills my heart.  Thank you, Lord, for this husband, friend and lover of You!

Mess-upper!

"Failure" must come early in a child's life.  Learning to do so many things necessarily means failure occurs often, but the urge to succeed is great and failures become a part of life.  Normal.  Expected.  Accepted.

Then childhood is left behind and the young adult is expected to blossom and thrive...leaving failures in the past as the urge to excel, impress and surpass takes on a life of its own.  Failing ceases to be a learning experience, but something to hide, deny and cover up.  Shameful.

Disappointing my dad was conflicting as I struggled to maintain my independence...making mistake after mistake after mistake.  Admitting error to a parent at any age, knowing the heartache you brought them, is humilating at best.  But there is no eraser of life, no magic to make mistakes disappear, no time to rectify.

Mess-upper was a nickname I cared not for.  But heard enough, the image sticks, looming above my head at every turn.  As a mother raising her child with no experience, a wife trying to please her husband, as an employee striving for perfection, a friend trying to keep the peace...as a servant trying to please God, the fear of failing can immobilize oneself into believing any effort is thwarted before it's begun!

The fear of failure becomes part of your breath, tainting efforts as it resides in the recesses of your mind, drawing you away from new opportunities before they've begun.  How to justify my failures...how to lose this mess-upper stigma from the fragile skin of my soul? 

"Perhaps the hardest lesson we learn from failure is that we aren't as great as we thought we were." (Warren Wiersbe)   Ahhh, there it is!  Pride, and injured at that, can demolish the strongest of desires, the meekest of intentions, and  the sincere attitude of gratitude disintegrates.  The cloak of perfection slips and reality stands tall.

Peter was a failure.  He failed Christ at least three times.  He suffered the agony of his Lord predicting and witnessing his failure.

 And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.  (Luke 22:61-62 ESV)

Can you even imagine the horror and shamefulness that must have enveloped Peter as he watched the Lord being tortured and crucified within those next couple of days, the dispair he must have felt?  Yet Christ appeared to him after his resurrection, giving him the command to "feed his sheep."  He trusted him to spread His gospel and entrusted lives to Peter's undeniable love of Christ to prevail.  It became not about Peter but only about Christ.

Failures may still stalk my path, but somewhere the Lord is working them for good.  It is no longer about me being a mess-upper, it is Christ working in me to deny myself at all.  I am freed from failure.

"Failing is not a disgrace unless you make it the last chapter of your book." 
- Jack Hyles

A Different Result

They say everyone should move about every seven years just to get rid of junk.  Okay, I get it.  We've been living on the Tennessee River for going on 12 years...and while some things may not be junk, it's still stuff...and it's got to go!  So, I literally have piles:  throw-away, gift-away and keep.  Sometimes I have to go all over everything again because I've forgotten which is which.  Then I have these boxes of packed things that I hope we won't need before we actually move.  THEN, we had a perspective buyer who wanted to see this house today, so we half-heartedly cleaned around the boxes and piles, hoping someone would be able to see beyond the disaster in progress.  Another part of moving that I dislike.

In the midst of my scurrying, tired steps and wanting to appear nonchalent over whether they liked the house or not, this gentleman and his son arrive.  Less than a minute into our conversation, the father spoke of losing his wife recently and the lost, hurting soul of a man was revealed.  As he talked, my mind was bombarded with memories of my dad after mother died, how hard it was for him to function, to reason, to speak of anything or anyone other than his loss.  Grief does that to you.  It robs you of joy, of time, of awareness that life goes on until the Lord calls you home.

The last thing this gentleman today needs to do is make big decisions, changing his residence being one of those.  He needs time to grieve.  Instead of putting my hopes in selling this house, I will pray for this man and his family, for the loss of this wife and mother, and ask God to give them all peace.  Amen.