Prayer and the Twilight Zone

Out of angst comes prayer.  Well there’s always prayer.  But I emerge best from angst with prayer. 

I don’t always get the answer I want.  In fact usually the answer is different than I imagined. 

And then there’s what I’ve been referring to lately as my Twilight Zone moments.  And the Twilight Zone terminology is really doing a disservice …I called them divinely-inspired Twilight Zone moments today.  God moments.  

Sometimes I have a hard time distinguishing the thoughts in my head as God-inspired, my own agenda, Satan-inspired, or just random happenings.  I don’t know, are there really random happenings?  Anyway, my mind is usually running at a million miles an hour.  There are ideas bouncing off the walls in there.  Zing, zip, ding!  (Ouch!)  And there’s dance party music playing. 

And yeah, coincidence versus God-incidence.  Discuss amongst yourselves.

I’m going to be kind of vague today because most of my recent God moments have been very personal.  (I know it may be hard to believe, but I have a life outside the internet.)  I try to discern and follow God’s leading.  Often I feel like I’ve lost my mind.  I know for sure God has a sense of humor.

But every now and again … and fairly often lately … there are those times when it is so clear to me what I’m supposed to do.  I am grateful for the guidance from above.  It doesn’t always make it easy, though.  I don’t always understand why.  I don’t always understand what will come of it.

So with that, I’m going to cut it short and go about my prayers and trying to make sense.  You can find me dancing to the soundtrack and/or voices in my head …

Angst

Ha!  Last week’s post was “Love is Patient” … which has translated suddenly into angst in the air this week.  Why?  I don’t know.  But – hmpf! -- I don’t like it.  And my drama free zone is being threatened. 

Get thee behind me Satan and all that.

For some I think the angst ties to the start of school … and the end of summer in sight.  When I look around there are lots of beginnings and endings, though.  All the classic life events that cause stress … I’m not sure I have more than a couple degrees of separation from any of them. 

Hmmm.  Ugh.

I like to think of myself as a drama squasher.  My job has been, um, interesting the last few days.  Challenging!  There’s the word!

Just when I’d like to unload some of my own angst I find myself with surprisingly little opportunity to do so.  Weird.  What is up with that?  Like any woman, I do sometimes need to vent off all the bad stuff so the good stuff is left behind.  Don’t worry, though, between my conversations with the big guy and verbally throwing up on the computer screen … I’ll be just fine.

What was that thing about patience again???

As an added bonus to my life, when I got on the treadmill the other day … and I thought I was fine … and I thought I would do more running than walking … oops, think again.  Hey, I thought the ragweed wasn’t that high yet!  I pushed it a little, but let’s just say my breathing wasn’t anywhere close to right until the next day.  I wasn’t exactly the picture of patience and lack-of-angst.

The distractions are numerous right now.  A friend described this syndrome last night as – and you have to stand up, clasp your hands together in an appropriate opera-like stance, and sing – “Me, me, me, me, me.”  Actually someone else said much the same thing the other day.  It’s a theme!  We’re all wrapped up in our own worlds.  (Pleading the fifth …)  Understandable … I mean, it’s our world.  Life usually improves when we spend less time inside our heads and more time outside, though.  I wonder what that appropriate ratio is …

So anyway, I finally took my own advice … crank up the Switchfoot and drink another Neuro.  And here I sit, adequately caffeinated and awash in my peevish-existential-mood Jesus music.  (Am I allowed to say all those words in one sentence?)  I also added a grande dark roast to the mix. 

I want out of this machine, it doesn’t feel like freedom …

Love is Patient

Patience.  A virtue I aspire to have someday. 

I am constantly reminded that it’s about God’s timing and not my own.  Perhaps my clinging to a schedule is a testament to my diva-like ways.  Or to my past work life where I was paid to make sure everyone was adhering to a schedule.  I get irked by tardiness, my own included.

But then there are times when I’m reminded that I need to rest.  And be patient. 

Like when – in a rare occurrence – I decide to lay down for a nap … and not set the alarm … and wake up 3-1/2 hours later.

Or when – in a truly deus ex machina-like moment – God himself steers my life in a different direction, because he knows I’m not going to do it on my own.

Love and patience have been going hand in hand lately for me.  And it’s not just that I’m a huge fan of 1 Corinthians 13.  The word “love” and the subject of love keep coming up.  Possibly just a random theme of daily life and people’s Facebook posts.  Or maybe someone is trying to tell me something.  Who knows.

In any case, we’re supposed to show love to others.  Period.  There are a lot of ways that can look.  For anyone who has had the whole agape, phileo, etc., etc., discussion in Sunday school, it’s not always about romantic love.

Sometimes it’s generosity.  Of time.  Material possessions.  Compliments.  A smile.

Sometimes it’s helping someone live up to their potential.

Sometimes it’s being a sounding board.

Sometimes it’s being the voice of reason that keeps drama from taking over.

And honestly for me it can include taking care of myself so I can be more patient.  Those closest to me know I don’t deal well with lack of sleep … so when I start to get cranky, put me to bed.  End of story.  And if I’ve gone more than a day or two without a workout … crankiness will also ensue.  Put me on the treadmill.

Last week I let myself get distracted by time-wasters two days in a row.  I was trying to be nice.  (And show some love!)  I was trying not to be the evil wench.  I was learning, I suppose, as I let the conversation with one drag on forever, so it wasn’t a 100% waste of my time.  But between that discussion and getting completely (and I mean completely) drenched in a rainstorm, I was kind of done for the day.  I hibernated under a blanket and watched the Olympics. 

Productivity did find its way back after a brief respite.  Whew.  Now on to accomplish my to do list.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, I suppose.  I just need to be patient.