rest & my raison d'être

Epiphany this morning:  all that stuff I've read about adrenal fatigue and what to do for it, what supplements to take, what tests to have done?  Possibly all I need to do is Learn. To. Rest.

As in, "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."

And, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled and about many things, but only one thing [sitting at his feet and listening to Him] is needed."

I used to get annoyed when I worked at a doctors' office and people would call in to make an appointment for their child who was sick, wanting medication so the sick child could still play in their basketball game that night.  I would rage in my head (while politely making their appointment for them) that they should LET THAT SICK KID REST, ALREADY!!!

Now who's caught the busy-sickness?!

Another morning epiphany (see, my Monday has been "productive" already!!):  my reason for being is to observe, and then help others see.  God didn't make me to be primarily a doer.  He gave me eyes to see what not everyone can see, and a desire and ability to communicate what I see.

And [surprised and humbled] - my observations bless people!  Show them God.  Give them hope.

I guess the two insights had to hit at the same time.  I've had people affirm me in my communication ability before, but I've always felt lazy not being a Doer, since observing feels like inactivity.  But this morning I felt like I just needed to take some time before my day's work swallowed me up, to just sit outside with my coffee.  No book, not even the Bible, and just take it all in.  Sunshine, birds singing, children squabbling.... ;)

And while I was doing just that, I remembered a book that I greatly enjoyed - Hal Borland's "Hill Country Harvest" - which is basically one man's observations of the natural world around him.  It's an enormous pleasure to read, and (to pacify the practical side of me) highly instructive as well.  His observations are purely secular (or are they? this is God's handiwork he's admiring, after all ...), but it gives a legitimate pleasure nonetheless - helps me to slow down a bit, to SEE my world better.

That's what I think God put me on this earth to do.  I have no idea how (or when) my observations of life will be shared (I suppose this blog could be a start) - and maybe they'll never reach more than just a handful of people.

It doesn't really matter.  I feel settled now, somehow.  I know what I'm here for!

Then, epiphanies in hand, I went out and weeded.  :)

And then I got sweaty, and my allergy rash got worse, and I started sneezing and came inside.  :)

"... a time to rest ...."

gestation

In the three years of this blog's life (I don't count 2006, when I started the blog, wrote three posts, and then promptly forgot about it for five years) I've written 297 posts.  Fifteen of those are unfinished, unpublished drafts.

I published one post in March, one in April, and one in May.

In April I saved four drafts; three in May.  Hmmm. . . .  Half of all the unfinished posts on this blog are in the past two months.

You'd almost think I was in some kind of stasis....

I've got drafts on strength, and joy, and sickness.  On Lil' Snip (who had a birthday recently), and God, on standing alone, and being part of a body.

Sometimes I open a draft and add to what I've written .... or delete it entirely.

I wonder what will happen to them, those unfinished thoughts waiting to be born ...



[like this one, a preemie, really ...]  

a dare to myself

There are fourteen posts on this blog, hidden from view, unfinished, unpublished.  Drafts, blogspot optimistically calls them.  From time to time I read these unpolished snippets of ideas, and feel restless about them.

I want to finish them.

I'm telling you by way of holding myself accountable (that's high-minded language for "publicly shame myself into finishing them").

I hope it works.  The discipline will be good for me (uncompleted tasks are my nemesis, an all-too-familiar impediment to all kinds of progress).  And who knows, maybe I'll turn out some good work.

There.  I dare me.

a leap!

I just watched someone jump this afternoon, and I must say it was inspiring.  Best wishes, my friend, and I look forward to regularly delivered installments of your cup of tea.

Smile, my readers:  life is not over - oh, not by a long shot - when you near the end of your fourth decade.  In fact, it may just be beginning ... again!  There are always new corners to be rounded, new rocks to be turned over, new pages to be flipped.

Hope is contagious.  May you catch some today!