My Scattered Mind

October 14, 2006

I'm going to let you into a part of my mind that few people experience. I'm usually a pretty together person. I balance a lot of projects at work, and though my desk is usually full of folders and papers, I know where everything is. I can hold my own in a meeting, and I can even sound intelligent when carrying on a conversation.

But when I pray, my brain mysteriously turns to mush. A typical prayer goes something like this:
Dear God, thank you for...crap, I forgot to pick up milk at the grocery store. Do I have a coupon for milk? Does Kroger do double coupons every day, or just...shoot...Sorry God. Lord, please...wow, my pedicure is still looking good. I got it a whole week ago, right after...man, I did it again. Um, God, sorry. I'll try better next time.

And so it goes. And here I am, on a prayer retreat, and just moments ago I was given the task of spending the next three hours in prayer. I've been fasting for the past day, and already my brain feels sluggish. Here I sit, fingers numb, hunched down next to a pine tree, and my mind feels as fragmented as ever. Even sitting here alone, no other person in sight, my mind is disjointed. The sound of dogs barking in the distance steals my attention. Stray dogs attract my mind more than my Savior.

So I pulled out my journal and my Bible, hoping I can reign my mind in somehow. As I read the Psalms, I am comforted by David's conflicts...how his cries of despair are echoed so quickly by declarations of thanksgiving.

So as the dogs bark and the wind pushes a pine cone against my knee, I sit alone and compose my own psalms.

My mind is scattered, Lord.
My prayers to you interrupted by voices in my mind.
They are loud voices, like the barking of a dog,
They fight for my attention,
But in the end, they say nothing.
Quiet them, Father.
Steal the noise and bring your peace.
Take the scattered sounds
And make them one united voice
A voice of praise to you.

I want to desire you, Lord.
I long for you to fill these empty parts of my heart.
I want to hunger for you as a man who fasts,
I want to thirst for you as one in the desert,
I want to yearn for you as an orphan yearns for a family.

How long will I fast before I let you feed me?
How long will I thirst before I take the water you offer?
How long will I live as an orphan before I return to the Father?

Take away my stubbornness and replace it with perseverance.
Open my eyes to your creation,
My soul to your salvation,
And my ears to your voice.

Not cool

I am not cool. And with that statement, comes a chorus of "Amen's" from across the globe. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty much a dork. I like to write research papers. I wore stirrup pants in middle school. I trip over my own feet. My hair sticks out in odd places. I'm allergic to pet dander. The list could go on. It probably will in the comments section of this post. And I'm okay with that. Because this morning I read a post by Bono that kind of puts the coolness factor into perspective:
“Coolness might help in your negotiation with people through the world, maybe, but it is impossible to meet God with sunglasses on.”

Amen Bono.

Winter Wonderland

I love the snow.

I love sitting in my cozy apartment (yes, I finally turned the heat on in my apartment) and watching the white stuff pile up quietly outside my window. I love scarves and mittens and puffy coats. I love burning my tongue on hot chocolate and sipping tea thick with honey. I love spending the evening catching up on the last month's worth of newspapers, my fingers turning black with ink.

I love winter.

(Check with me in a few months to see if I'm still loving it!)

Monday Pet Peeves

So, it's Monday and rainy and yucky, and I'm crabby. Here are some of my pet peeves for today:

• The person in front of me at Subway who ordered 12 subs...and of course wanted them ALL toasted. For the love people, order a flippin' party platter.
• People who put the whole body of their email in the subject line. Are you kiddding me? Just send a normal email.
• People who leave early for the day to go to a football game, but put a sign up on their desk that say they're "at an appointment." A football game is NOT an appointment. I don't care that you go to a football game...don't make it look like you're working though.
• When I don't proof my work closely and write a sentence that has the word "small" in it four times (yes, I can be my own pet peeve, thank you very much).
• Someone who HAS to have a project done by 2...but then they leave at 1, without telling me.
• People who don't pay attention to detail, then blame me for their mistake because they used the wrong file.

I think that's all for now. It's a Monday. I'm crabby. 'Nuff said.

Hot tea and cold nights

Tonight, I got to listen to bluegrass. I used to hate bluegrass. My experiences with bluegrass music growing up all seemed to involve a bunch of overweight men gathered around a woodstove in someone's garage. The music was twangy, the women all clogged, and me, being the elitist teenager that I was, would simply roll my eyes at the unrefined hillbilly music that bounced off of the concrete walls. Seriously, I was such a brat.

But now, the tables have turned. I LOVE bluegrass music. I love the way it reminds me of home and family. I love the lightning fast playing and the blur of fingers over strings. The twang makes me homesick. The harmonies make my heart ache. The raw talent makes my toes tap.

So tonight, when a friend called and invited me go listen to live bluegrass at a bbq place downtown, I didn't hestiate. And it was just what I needed. Sitting in the night air, sipping hot tea and laughing with a friend. We stayed until the lemon in my tea was stained brown and the air cooled, the moon suspended in haze above the twang of the banjo and the thump of the bass.

It was an extraordinary moment in the middle of an ordinary week.

What's my problem?

I don't know what my problem is, but I've been struggling to blog lately. It's not that I don't have anything to blog about...I think it's just the opposite. I have too many things bouncing around in my head, and when I actually sit down to blog, I can't narrow it down. But tonight a friend who shall remain nameless *coughScott* said I needed to put something on here, so here I am.

I recently wrote in an email to a friend that I feel like I'm alternating between God kicking my butt and holding me close. I realize that sounds negative, but it's really not. Because seriously, I need my butt kicked. I need God to shake me out of this complacency that I too often find myself in. And that's just what he's been doing. He's putting these raw, honest, messy people in my life, and He's revealing things to me that literally have me on my face before Him...something I've never really experienced before.

But God knows my breaking point. And He delivers me. Just a week ago I had the opportunity to go to Florida and just be still for a few days. It wasn't this super-spiritual retreat...it was me, some friends, lots of seafood and live music. It was laughter, long walks on the beach and fruity drinks under an umbrella. It was exactly what I needed.

I think too often I feel like I've got God figured out. I think I know how He should deal with my issues. And then, He does the opposite of what I expected. And somehow, it all turns out as it should.

Praise the Lord I'm not in charge.