Remember at the end of the movie "Animal House" one of the frat brothers, Stork, bumps the drum major out of the parade and proceeds to lead the entire band into a dead-end alley of brick walls? Stork escapes but the band continues marching and playing in a clump.
Yeah, I think that pretty much sums up what I've been doing. Determinedly proceeding and ignoring all signs that I might've taken a wrong turn. Please, do not confuse me with any facts - like the drum major I started out following is no longer at the head of my parade. Or that I'm playing and marching just as hard as before but stuck. Or that the confusion and clumpiness is messing with the beautiful sound I used to make.
Play louder, March harder.
Still kinda shocks me that that small, still voice managed to get through the cacophony. That it managed to pull me far enough away that I could see the brick walls, the frustration, the lack of peace. Back at the alley entrance suddenly the world opens up and joy waits.
How about you? Anyone else find themselves marching into brick walls this morning? Anyone else wake up determined to just keep your head down, march harder, and play louder? Maybe you're in the process of actually knocking down those brick walls and the small, still voice is saying to stick with it.
But maybe you're like me and the parade you're supposed to be in is passing you by.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Monday, November 14, 2011
Ever Jumped Off a Roller Coaster?
Life ever feel like a roller coaster? Up and down, just to go up and down again? And again?
Yesterday when I heard someone say that some folks lives are like roller coasters and they never seem to get off, it struck a chord with me. Over the summer we not only moved, but my literary agent quit. Citing some family problems and other vague things she quit and left her clients with nothing more. No explanations, no assurance of what she'd done for us, nothing but silence.
Start the roller coaster!
My emotions jumped on and went straight for the bottom only to then jerk upward and push upward and upward and just when I saw the light of day - Boom, down to the bottom again. It's a ride I swore I wanted to get off of, but when I looked around it always seemed the station was slowly passing behind me and the track ahead curved out of sight.
Can the roller coaster become our normal? Can it become so familiar that to relax and feel peaceful seems scary? When a week without tears makes one wary?
Pastor Hollie yesterday was speaking about just that - when we get so used to turmoil, we no longer can see the peace being offered.
Next time that station comes around - I'm going to be ready for it.
How about you? Got a roller coaster to jump off of?
Yesterday when I heard someone say that some folks lives are like roller coasters and they never seem to get off, it struck a chord with me. Over the summer we not only moved, but my literary agent quit. Citing some family problems and other vague things she quit and left her clients with nothing more. No explanations, no assurance of what she'd done for us, nothing but silence.
Start the roller coaster!
My emotions jumped on and went straight for the bottom only to then jerk upward and push upward and upward and just when I saw the light of day - Boom, down to the bottom again. It's a ride I swore I wanted to get off of, but when I looked around it always seemed the station was slowly passing behind me and the track ahead curved out of sight.
Can the roller coaster become our normal? Can it become so familiar that to relax and feel peaceful seems scary? When a week without tears makes one wary?
Pastor Hollie yesterday was speaking about just that - when we get so used to turmoil, we no longer can see the peace being offered.
Next time that station comes around - I'm going to be ready for it.
How about you? Got a roller coaster to jump off of?
Friday, September 9, 2011
New gets Old or Back to the Hobbit Hole
I tried reading the Lord of the Rings books, starting with "The Hobbit". The beginning set in the adorable hobbits home in the beautiful Shire was lovely. Just lovely. Then they started off on this trip, or quest, or whatever and all I found myself thinking was, "When are they going back to the hobbit hole?" But, if you know anything about the books, they don't get back for a long, long, loooong time.
So I quit reading them.
From this I learned that home is my favorite, adventure is over-rated and familiar is better than unfamiliar. So what am I doing in a completely new setting where nothing is familiar and there is no way to go back home?
I'm tired of telling people where we moved from and why we moved. Sure, I'll buy the same scented Yankee Candle for fall (Spiced Pumpkin) but where do I put it? Everything goes somewhere I haven't figured out yet. Nothing is easy or routine, and that's getting old.
But I guess that's the deal, things can't become familiar or routine unless you do them, and keep doing them, then do them some more. Maybe this is a chance to set some new things in motion. To choose what will be familiar, routine, and yes, even mundane one day.
What about you? Anything you'd NOT put into today if you were just starting it?
Good, 'cause you get a new one tomorrow.
So I quit reading them.
From this I learned that home is my favorite, adventure is over-rated and familiar is better than unfamiliar. So what am I doing in a completely new setting where nothing is familiar and there is no way to go back home?
I'm tired of telling people where we moved from and why we moved. Sure, I'll buy the same scented Yankee Candle for fall (Spiced Pumpkin) but where do I put it? Everything goes somewhere I haven't figured out yet. Nothing is easy or routine, and that's getting old.
But I guess that's the deal, things can't become familiar or routine unless you do them, and keep doing them, then do them some more. Maybe this is a chance to set some new things in motion. To choose what will be familiar, routine, and yes, even mundane one day.
What about you? Anything you'd NOT put into today if you were just starting it?
Good, 'cause you get a new one tomorrow.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Cashiers Beware, We Talk to Everybody.
Yeah, we talk to everybody. I realized this was a cultural thing when I moved up North. On one of my first shopping trips the poor cashier looked lost when I started chatting with her about our move and my kids. It took a bit for me to realize it wasn't just her that didn't have much to say, none of the cashiers seemed to want to share what was going on in their lives in that 10 minutes we crossed paths.
All that was for those of you who might not understand when I tell you Mike and I had a life-changing talk with one of the bellhops at our hotel this weekend.
He was a nice young man. He said he was a student. I asked where. He said Savannah State. I asked what his major was. He said Chemistry. Then, he added, "But I don't really know what to do with that degree." Well, I jumped all over that. Told him about a friend of ours who works in the Chemical industry and how they couldn't find any young Chemical engineers. Well, by now we were up in the room and Mike told our young bellhop how to find more information on the field. Charles, yes, we were on first name basis at this point, told us how appreciative he was and then he said, "When I graduated and told my uncle I was going into Chemistry he told me no one in our family was that smart and I shouldn't do it."
Stunned, we proceeded to tell him we were both first generation college grads in our families and he was a smart, personable young man who most definitely could prove his uncle wrong. We watched the relief in Charles' eyes and the straightening of his shoulders as we continued to talk. I don't think life-changing is too strong of a description.
See, that's why we talk to everybody.
All that was for those of you who might not understand when I tell you Mike and I had a life-changing talk with one of the bellhops at our hotel this weekend.
He was a nice young man. He said he was a student. I asked where. He said Savannah State. I asked what his major was. He said Chemistry. Then, he added, "But I don't really know what to do with that degree." Well, I jumped all over that. Told him about a friend of ours who works in the Chemical industry and how they couldn't find any young Chemical engineers. Well, by now we were up in the room and Mike told our young bellhop how to find more information on the field. Charles, yes, we were on first name basis at this point, told us how appreciative he was and then he said, "When I graduated and told my uncle I was going into Chemistry he told me no one in our family was that smart and I shouldn't do it."
Stunned, we proceeded to tell him we were both first generation college grads in our families and he was a smart, personable young man who most definitely could prove his uncle wrong. We watched the relief in Charles' eyes and the straightening of his shoulders as we continued to talk. I don't think life-changing is too strong of a description.
See, that's why we talk to everybody.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I'd Jerk a Knot . . .
"I'd jerk a knot in his tail." Mama would say that when one of our friends was willfully misbehaving. She'd also say it a quite a bit while watching her soaps. She meant there would be an immediate reckoning and things would be a-changin'.
This line came to my mind as I looked at our pool this morning. Folks with pools are familiar with the word "shock", both as a noun and a verb. Shock is a little bag of chemicals that shocks the bacteria in the pool back to normal.
Shock is my friend.
Last week we let things get out of hand and woke up to green stuff in the pool. Algae. Yep, I shocked it and immediately things began getting better. You may say I jerked a knot in that pool. (Okay, you may not.)
Over the summer I let things get out of hand and doubt started creeping around my edges, much like that algae started in the darker corners. I fought it some, but really, it wasn't so bad. However, pretty soon there wasn't much clearness left at all. Even in situations that called for pure Joy, things were a tad murky.
So I gave God permission to jerk a knot in my tail. You see, he doesn't just barge in and tell me what to do. He waits for me to want it. Do you remember all the times when Jesus asked the sick or lame what they wanted him to do?
Putting ourselves in the Presence of God sounds all nice and sweet, but a lot of times he's holding a bag of shock.
This line came to my mind as I looked at our pool this morning. Folks with pools are familiar with the word "shock", both as a noun and a verb. Shock is a little bag of chemicals that shocks the bacteria in the pool back to normal.
Shock is my friend.
Last week we let things get out of hand and woke up to green stuff in the pool. Algae. Yep, I shocked it and immediately things began getting better. You may say I jerked a knot in that pool. (Okay, you may not.)
Over the summer I let things get out of hand and doubt started creeping around my edges, much like that algae started in the darker corners. I fought it some, but really, it wasn't so bad. However, pretty soon there wasn't much clearness left at all. Even in situations that called for pure Joy, things were a tad murky.
So I gave God permission to jerk a knot in my tail. You see, he doesn't just barge in and tell me what to do. He waits for me to want it. Do you remember all the times when Jesus asked the sick or lame what they wanted him to do?
Putting ourselves in the Presence of God sounds all nice and sweet, but a lot of times he's holding a bag of shock.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tuesdays with Kay: Happened in the Shower
Tuesdays with Kay: Happened in the Shower: It happened while I was cleaning the shower yesterday. This kinda feels like Home.
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in seve...
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in seve...
Happened in the Shower
It happened while I was cleaning the shower yesterday. This kinda feels like Home.
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in several months.
Back in March we found out we might get the opportunity to move to Florida with a job promotion for Mike. However it took until May for that to be settled and then once the ball started rolling, it went fasterer and fasterer. We sold the house in eight days (I know, amazing) and found a new one. We lived in a hotel for a couple weeks and then moved-in here on August 2nd. During that time putting my thoughts down on paper (or computer screen) just wasn't happening. Too many things that couldn't be said or that I didn't want to say. One of the things I couldn't say for a while was that we're going to be grandparents, which is wonderful news. And then there's stuff happening with my writing, I didn't want to say. But more about both of those on another day.
Today is about that click in our heads as certain information tumbles into place. Like when you know autumn is coming. Or when, with just one look, you realize a couple is falling in love. Or the way we just know our kid is lying to us. So why does this house feel like home today? Was it cleaning the shower? Was it coming home late at night after a trip to Georgia on Sunday? Is it just the weight of facts that keep building, one after the other?
I've questioned my ability to KNOW things this summer. Questioned it deeply and with many tears. But once again I believe I have to trust that I do KNOW sometimes. I really do.
Do you?
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in several months.
Back in March we found out we might get the opportunity to move to Florida with a job promotion for Mike. However it took until May for that to be settled and then once the ball started rolling, it went fasterer and fasterer. We sold the house in eight days (I know, amazing) and found a new one. We lived in a hotel for a couple weeks and then moved-in here on August 2nd. During that time putting my thoughts down on paper (or computer screen) just wasn't happening. Too many things that couldn't be said or that I didn't want to say. One of the things I couldn't say for a while was that we're going to be grandparents, which is wonderful news. And then there's stuff happening with my writing, I didn't want to say. But more about both of those on another day.
Today is about that click in our heads as certain information tumbles into place. Like when you know autumn is coming. Or when, with just one look, you realize a couple is falling in love. Or the way we just know our kid is lying to us. So why does this house feel like home today? Was it cleaning the shower? Was it coming home late at night after a trip to Georgia on Sunday? Is it just the weight of facts that keep building, one after the other?
I've questioned my ability to KNOW things this summer. Questioned it deeply and with many tears. But once again I believe I have to trust that I do KNOW sometimes. I really do.
Do you?
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