Dastardly Distractions, Nuisance Noises!

We are here to do what only we can do–not to be going down every rabbit hole coming our way via media. We are here to pray and praise like never before, to seek Him FIRST. And last. And between times.

In reading the Word of God Himself this morning there was/is so much. For me. Realignment, repositioning, renewal, refreshing. We simply do not get those things from focusing on the nonsense and chaos available and in our faces from every direction. Rather, we become addled, confused, and diminished. Impotent.

Yes! Of course you agree and you’re going to tell all those other folks in your house all about it. Or not. Maybe it’s time to spend a good two or three hours with your Creator and see what He has to say. To me, He’s saying, “Stay in your lane. Go where I lead, and let me do the leading of those around you. When I need your verbal input (other than in prayer, which is always needed) I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, let patience possess your soul.”

Patience is not my strongest and most prolific Fruit of the Spirit. But I’m learning! And oh, the benefits of keeping still, being at peace, because I can. Why? Because I’ve been hanging out with the Lover of my soul. Focusing on what puts everything else in perspective, what makes life work. Amen!

Control or Contentment? Success or Selfishness?

I’m hearing lots about eliminating “toxic” people from my life–those who don’t contribute to my “success”–about walking away. I really like this idea, but does God?* In listening to and reading motivational “success” gurus I know I’ve gotta get up at 5:00 a.m. if I’m going to “be somebody.” But God says I am somebody. People always want to know what I “do” and the temptation is to say, “I’m a writer,” as this, unlike homemaking, is an approved occupation. But God approves of me. Just because.

Still, the messages are so compelling, as are the ideas of writing bestsellers and achieving other lauded goals, having an actually heeded day planner, and checking off my to-do lists each day. And the facts that vision boards don’t work for me, and my plans almost always are superceded by “life” doesn’t faze me. It can’t be that all those people are missing something–after all, they’re “successful”–I MUST TRY HARDER. FASTER, FASTER, WORK, WORK!

As I ponder all these things, and wonder why Christian motivational speakers consider non-Christians “successful” simply because they’re famous, I suddenly remember something I once heard, and now I am listening: If at first you don’t succeed, fry, fry, a hen. Ah, now that sounds like success to me. My daughter recently roasted a fat chicken in the Hobbit way – bacon, butter, herbs, and those things under as well as atop the skin. The chicken was first rinsed and then patted dry, to be cooked on high heat, and all in pursuit of a very crispy and delicious skin. Roasted along this dear bird were root vegetables, and all hearts were made glad.

When Rebekah asked what I wanted done with the chicken I could have told her my plan. Rather, I asked for her suggestions and out came An Unexpected Cookbook–The Unofficial Book of Hobbit Cookery. Not my plan, but better than. I’m liking the sound of that: Not my plan, but better than. My daughter is happy, my family enjoys an excellent meal, and I don’t have to cook. Success!

* In Andrew Murray’s classic book, Humility, he writes: “Look upon every fellow man who tries or vexes you as a means of grace to humble you.”

What Can I Create?

With this evening’s attitude, not much. Once I start thinking about what’s not perfect, I’m on the way to griping about it, and here it comes–the Biblical “spirit of heaviness.” And who needs more of that?

Well, no matter how many times I try sad, I never like it. It never works for me. And it’s always rooted in choosing doldrums over delight. As someone who, over 40 years ago, chose to join the revolution started 2000 years ago by a really great guy named Jesus, I simply have no business thinking it’s about me.

I know (this I’ve tried as often as I’ve tried sad) that when I start doing the selfish it’s not going to end well. Ah, but when I read the beautiful Word of Life, when I pray, when I repent of my disobedient self-absorption, the very atmosphere of my life begins to change. What a difference a moment makes.

What a difference a bit of good preaching (this evening it was Creflo Dollar talking about the “sin” of selfishness, the miserable life therein); last week it was Bill Johnson saying, “When at war, create.”

Create. I’d no sooner finished listening to Creflo, than John asked me to watch and listen to the story of a businessman turning Central Park into something marvelous for New Yorkers. Create. We’re all born for it, created for it.

Just in putting out the maple syrup and making plans for homemade waffles, scrambled eggs, brats, peaches and tea for a late breakfast tomorrow, I have begun creating something marvelous in the sight of my beloveds.

In writing my evening pages (I scribble my thoughts morning and night to see what’s in my brain) I create a list for tomorrow–assuring that it will begin as it should–first with thanks for the Author of all Beauty and Creativity, and then with the getting to it.

What can we create tomorrow? Why don’t we let it begin with smiling at ourselves in the mirror and remembering we’re created in the image of the The Creator. Who knows what we’ll get up to (I might start a book, or at least another blog post, do a YouTube thing. I might even clean the junk drawer!). Or maybe I’ll just create joy by giving smiles and good words to all.

Thanks for letting me share with you!

P.S. You can still get The Maker’s Marriage (on Amazon) before Christmas–if not for Christmas, by New Year’s Night.

Back in the Morning

I’d like to say I worked all day on The Maker’s Marriage and did my very best to get it on Amazon, today as planned. The truth however, is that my darlin’ wanted me to go to town with him to do errands, and then go out for steak and a movie. I worked hard on the book, learned much, refrained from griping about technology and things that make no sense, and then took off for greener pastures at 2:30 this afternoon.

It is after all, our Anniversary Week (we had our party yesterday, went out for breakfast the day before, and who knows what will happen tomorrow). One day soon my daughter Hannah and I will have her birthday date (she had the good sense to be born on our anniversary and was 26 yesterday)– she’s already had her date with Dad. Saturday will be her birthday party at our house, and so on it goes.

This year, being our 30th anniversary, was extra special (yes, John got me pearls and I’m wearing them even now–the loveliest of necklaces and earrings. I look positively chic in them) and I am reminded even more than in years past of the goodness of God. There are now words to adequately express my thankfulness and awe–He took two absolute yay-hoos like John and me, and blessed us beyond, so far beyond, all we ever asked or imagined. Well, enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s talk steak.

Texas Roadhouse was fun as always, and I got to see the new James Bond movie afterward. John’s not much of a fan, but he went because he’s a very good man.

Movie review: I loved it, John didn’t. But back to The Maker’s Marriage. I really, really, really do plan to get it finished tomorrow. I’m learning so much, and the next book will be so much easier! Right??

Bring it, Loudmouth! I’ll Talk About Abortion

According to many women my age, baby-valuing women like me are “controlling”. “What?” I ask, “could possibly be more controlling than being so married to having your own way, living your own plan, that you would destroy the most marvelous miracle of which you will ever partake?”

How much more control can you ever exercise over another human being than the control exercised when you kill it?

Abortion is horrible, barbaric, satanic, wrong. Period. Abortion is a victory for the Father of Lies–ask any honest woman who’s ever had one. Ask the Lover of your soul. But don’t ask a harridan who still hasn’t learned that her way isn’t The Way.

So call me controlling. I call you to Jesus’ healing. Amen.

The Art of Conversation Creates Art

It was a lovely morning yesterday. Seth and I tried a new LaVazza variety (falling off the wagon a bit on this aspect of Zero For Six-ing, but more on that later) on the balcony. We likened the rustling of the Aspen leaves to the feel of clean cotton sheets, the breezes in the pines and the birdsong to music.

The conversation went and wound its way here and there, and somewhere in there I had a fantastic idea–a doable, practical example of how to remind our government that indeed, they work for us. I won’t go into the particulars of the idea, because I want to talk about the power of conversation.

We’re meant to have it, and it’s meant to produce ideas, solutions, revelations. It’s meant to connect hearts and minds and put us in the creativity zone. So, if our conversations aren’t producing this magical marvel, especially when we’re talking with our adult children, we can examine ourselves.

Do we listen carefully and thoughtfully? Do we interrupt? Do we have to be right? Are we taking a parental role when our family members are not asking for that? Just as we’re extra polite and considerate in our conversations with non-family folks, are we also with our beloveds? Do we remember that sometimes hearts simply want to be heard–not to hear our opinion?

When we don’t know the answer do we simply say, “I don’t know, but I will pray for wisdom, and I will pray for you to have wisdom, and all will be well”?

It’s helpful to remember that those who talk the most and loudest are often drowning out the words of those with the deepest and best thoughts. Just in case you’re like me, and maybe are a bit chatty, it could be time to put some art into our conversation.

Zero For Six TV is Play

It’s not deprivation! Not watching makes us more childlike, more apt to play. I find myself delving into old joys, thinking new thoughts, considering forgotten possibilities, simply because I’ve freed my mind from the tyranny of watching.

When I’m not watching a fake world I take in my own. I hear the wild turkeys in the yard, come to see the goldfinch when someone exclaims at its beauty, listen for the lovely sound of the blackbirds. I see the cottontail munch, munch, much stems of grass, sing him a bit of a song and watch his ears twitch as he listens. I’m noting the scent of my beloved’s soap on his skin, of the juniper and sage on the breeze, of the lemon curd just cooked. I’m listening to what plays when I try “Romantic music for daydreaming.” I’m listening to my beloveds. I’m hearing the music of life, and life becomes musical.

When I’m not watching, I’m gracefully and rhythmically getting through those little details cluttering my life, thus freeing my mind for larger and deeper thoughts. Or simply thoughts of play, maybe like being in a play, or learning the rules for Charades and having a tea party. A proper English tea, perhaps, as I share Queen Elizabeth’s 23 rules for living (including play) from Bryan Kazlowski’s Long Live the Queen, and dream . . .

If I can’t go to England right now, I muse, maybe I’ll read James Herriot, or P.G. Wodehouse, or Agatha Christie, sipping Earl Grey. Maybe I’ll nap like a baby all afternoon, and stay up all night, and see what I can get up to . . .

We’re meant to play.

Zero For Six–Calling a Spade a Spade

My four new Zero For Six adventures–Six months of zero TV viewing, faithless (negative) words, fatiguing foods, and non-essential spending–seem to feed each other, to overlap. Even as they go together negatively, so do they positively. They sustain each other you could say.

Take spending. Non-essential spending surely includes the purchase of fatiguing foods that are those most often consumed along with TV. I’m now going to add clarity by simply changing one term. In place of “non-essential” and “fatiguing” I will say “junk”. The same for “faithless” or negative and fear-filled words–I will simply call them “junk” words.

My quest to eliminate junk words will no doubt be aided by eliminating junk spending, but perhaps even more by turning off the “lowness box.” So much of TV is simply low. Even those shows based on the writing of excellent writers, must it seems, be lowered. Turned to junk, watched while eating junk, paid for of course, with junk spending. And what comes out of my mouth after I am insulted with this stuff spewing into my living room? Junk. What else?

It’s a vicious and insidious junk stew and I’ve had more than enough.

Thanks for joining me, and please share this with anyone who needs a bit (or lots and lots) of Zero For Sixing.

P.S. Watch for my next post–I’ll go into more detail on Zero For Six Junk Spending.