by jphilo | Oct 25, 2013 | Daily Life
A sneaky, snarky fall funk is doing its best to worm its way into my heart.
Maybe the cause is the conclusion of two fun trips in the past couple of months. No more looking forward to a visit with a high school bestie to see covered bridges near Grand Rapids, Michigan. No more presenting workshops at writers’ conferences where beginning writers think the information being passed on to them is the greatest thing since sliced bread. No more looking forward to visiting old friends out west where the deer and the antelope roam.
This week life is back to usual with clothes to wash, meals to cook, a house to clean, and writing to be done. I want to blame the funk on those mundane household tasks and the fear of the blank screen. When those excuses don’t work, I want to blame the time of year.
You know what I mean?
Less daylight.
Cold nights.
Funk bait for sure.
But in all honesty, those things aren’t the cause of this fall funk. I am the cause. Or to be more specific, a lack of contentment with life is the real cause.
People aren’t flocking to my blogs these days.
They aren’t flocking to by my books.
They aren’t flocking to like my Facebook author page.
Or Twitter.
Or Pinterest.
Or Google +.
In truth, box elder bugs are the only thing flocking anywhere near me. So many of them are flocking to the south side of our house that I sprayed the foundation with insecticide, and now the whole house stinks.
But I digress.
The fall funk, however, does not.
It’s perched on my shoulder.
Waiting for this crack of discontentment to break wide open.
So it can suck out my joy.
It could happen. It will happen, unless my eyes quit looking for the gifts and start seeking their Giver. Unless I consider the presence of the Giver of greater value than the presents He gives. Unless I trust His timing above my own and His wise provision over my foolish desires.
O Lord, grant me contentment in you today. Amen.
by jphilo | Feb 8, 2013 | Daily Life
This past Wednesday was not a good day.
First, I was supposed to meet a friend for coffee in the morning and because I’d written the time down wrong, got there a half hour late. Being an impatient person, I hate to keep others waiting.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
After working on a blog post for over almost two hours, it refused to come together the way I wanted. Impatient people like me don’t have time to waste spend almost two hours on a single blog post.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The google chat audio feature was malfunctioning on my computer, so I missed an online meeting in the afternoon. Impatient people have no patience with technical glitches.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
A publisher rejected a piece I wrote for a devo Bible being compiled by a friend. Not only that, the publisher wanted extensive citations (including book page numbers) for a half-dozen quotes for other pieces I’d written. Impatient people don’t enjoy skimming long books to find page numbers.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Hiram spent all afternoon trying to file our income tax with Turbo Tax. He’s usually pretty patient, but after several hours of online chats with Turbo Tax experts and two phone calls, he was a little cranky. Impatient people like me think we’re the only ones with a right to be cranky.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The cold Hiram’s been fighting for two weeks came back with a vengeance that night. He ran a temperature again and coughed all night. Which didn’t sit well with a woman who needs plenty of sleep in order to be patient.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The worst of it was this. I woke up Thursday morning and realized impatient people like me spend all their time looking at gray skies. We are so focused on the gloom, we don’t even see the gap in the clouds and the sun streaming through.
Impatient people like me forget they have
friends to visit,
blogs to write,
a computer that functions flawlessly 99.9% of the time,
writing projects to complete,
income tax refunds to file,
and a husband whose job provides sick leave and excellent health insurance.
Yes, that’s the worst of it.
Dear Father, forgive me for not slowing down to look for the gap in the clouds. Forgive me for focusing on the gloomy clouds and missing the joy of the Son. Please teach me to be patient…as quickly as possible. Amen.
by jphilo | Oct 1, 2012 | Church Newsletter Columns
The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness,
but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish,
but that all should reach repentance.
2 Peter 3:
I almost didn’t plant any lobelia last spring. The fussy flower doesn’t like heat and drought, and I don’t like namby-pamby plants that require extra watering and attention. But after the drab of winter, the perky purple blossoms were a bright spot of color in the local greenhouse last April, and I caved.
I planted the lobelia in an old washpan, plopped the last remaining geranium in with it, and set the pot beside the old pump in the yard. The picturesque tableau did quite nicely until the hottest, driest summer since 1988 arrived. The lobelia fried, but the geranium struggled on valiantly. So valiantly that I finally took pity on the thing and moved the washpan closer to the house where the plant could enjoy shade for part of the day.
The geranium rallied, but the lobelia looked dead. Dead enough that I almost pulled it up.
But for some reason I couldn’t make myself do it. Eventually, the weather cooled down, and tiny seedlings began poking through the crispy remains of the lobelia. More sprouted in the soil around the now thriving geranium.
“I should put the geranium in another pot and dump the dirt from the pan before those weeds produce seeds,” I told myself more than once. But something kept me from acting on the impulse. And one cool, late summer morning, I stepped outside and and was greeted by perky purple blossoms waving from the washpan. A new crop of lobelia was blooming. I was inordinately pleased.
During my quiet time the other day, 2 Peter 3:9 was quoted as the prayer of confession in our church’s monthly prayer guide. That morning, I prayed through the verse and repented of the same sins I struggle with day after day. Then I thanked God for his slow work in my life. For his patience when I wander away from his living water into spiritual drought. For looking beyond the sins that shrivel my spirit and seeing my heart for him instead. For nurturing the seeds he’s planted inside me. For encouraging new and vibrant life that will burst forth in his right time. For never giving up on me or any of his children as long as we have life and breath. For being inordinately pleased when we seek him, repent, and complete the purposes he created us to fulfill.
Then I wrote a note on next April’s calendar in my planner: Buy lobelia. It looks dead in the heat of the summer, but it comes back.
by jphilo | Jun 5, 2012 | Top Ten Tuesday
My latest dual stint as care giver during Camp Dorothy and Camp Hiram reinforced a belief I’ve held for many, many years. I should never, never be a nurse. Here are the top ten reasons for drawing that conclusion.
10. A nurse’s uniform doesn’t make me look good.
9. I don’t have the patience.
8. Nurses shouldn’t get queasy giving a shot or putting in an IV.
7. I don’t have the patience.
6. Lifting wheelchairs in and out of car trunks hurts.
5. I don’t have the patience.
4. Nurses need good eye-hand coordination.
3. I don’t have the patience.
2. Blood and other bodily fluids are gross.
1. I don’t have the patience.
How about you? What are the top ten reasons you did or didn’t become a nurse? Leave a comment!
by jphilo | Apr 20, 2012 | Out and About, Uncategorized
Hmmm…maybe flying Southwest Airlines to the Accessibility Summit (to take advantage of their 2 free bags policy to haul books & book table stuff) wasn’t such a good idea. Our plane is sitting on the runway, we’re packed in here like sardines, and the pilot announced a problem with the electrical system. The first attempt to solve the problem was unsuccessful.
A technician is on his way.
Call me crazy, but I’m developing a Southwest Airline/Accessibility Summit phobia. Last year while at the Summit, again arriving there via Southwest, the airline announced one of their planes developed a crack in the fuselage. My return flight was one of the few not grounded, so I returned home without a problem.
Though I was on fuselage crack watch the entire time.
But, back to the present problem. We’ve now been deplaned which means I won’t make my Chicago connection. The customer service representative says there’s a “good likelihood” I’ll get to Dulles tonight.
But when tonight remains a mystery.
All this trouble to take advantage of SW’s 2 free bags policy. Which I probably will need since I won’t be in the Accessibility Exhibit Hall to sell books tonight and may have a bunch to cart home on Sunday. If SW planes fly on Sunday.
I’m not holding my breath.
