In a recent conversation Ten-Year-Old and I discussed what to do in case of a threat.
We fondly reminisced how as a preschooler he loved hiding. We both admitted we still like to.
Without sparking unnecessary imaginings, we agreed upon several threats where hiding (and whistling for your trained, pet dragon, of course) is his best first line of defense. Knowing this stuff is important.
So, you’d think I’d know better by now. And yet, during my day-to-day activities I somehow delude myself to think God’s got my back, but I’m in control of my life. Pfffffft! That’s dragon for “you idiot.”
I can think of several points in my history when, rather than risk anyone seeing that I wasn’t completely in control, instead of calling for help, I put on my game face and toughed out bad situations. I hid.
We all craft our secret hiding places knowing they won’t actually help us deal with genuine threats:
We stay in bed too late, forcing ourselves to rush – again,
We take another portion because it tastes good knowing our clothes are already uncomfortably tight,
We stop at the bar instead of getting home where we’re needed,
We take another dose of medicine even if it’s early,
Rather than saving, we buy yet another pair of shoes,
We simply deny anything scares us or that there’s any problem at all,
We stuff anger, not willing to risk making things worse,
We make excuses for abusers rather than seeing them as they are…
I’ve been there and done it all, a world-class hider. I know how easily we sometimes cause ourselves more stress, wasted time, or risk unnecessary hurt by standing against a threat alone rather than ask for help.
However, the momentous occasions when I called out to God for help were complete game-changers – life changers actually. Even when I didn’t believe He heard me – when I called Him, and listened for His answer, things worked out.
Decades later, He still works it out whenever I get over myself and ask Him for help.
Are you hiding? Don’t stay there alone. Call out for help.
“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” Hebrews 4:16 (NLT)
I began today happy to wake up, which is my preference, but soon I went on a tear.
Momentary digression:
For weeks I’ve been working on the lawns, vegetable and flower gardens around the main house. The underground sprinkler system is down. So, for the first 2 – 4 hours a day, 6 days a week I’m working in the yards, pulling weeds around the lots for chicken feed, hauling grass clippings to the livestock, tending the pastures in between moving the hoses and sprinklers. Clearly I get my steps in early!
Note: The potted plants around my door require about 5 minute’s attention every other day. I have gravel, no lawn.
I do all this mostly because I enjoy it, but also because 1) Brother needs and appreciates the help while he works in town and runs his business here, and 2) I’m at a standstill in my cottage:
I can’t paint the walls or floors before the roof is repaired and any drywall that needs replacing is done,
the list goes on, but I’ll spare you the whine.
You’re welcome.
Last week I began watering the grass in the evenings in case that might green up the too-beige lawn.
I may have mentioned I typically rise and go to roost with the chickens. The problem watering in the evenings rather than early in the morning is when I’m up later in the evening I have trouble getting to sleep before 2 or 3 a.m. This doesn’t work well when I usually wake between 3 and 4 a.m. – like it or not.
So back to today:
This fourth (maybe fifth) groggy, sleep-deprived morning I felt notably grumpy and shaking it off was difficult. More importantly, my chapters have taken some hits – the writing’s vague, sequences bounce all over the place and dialogues suck (it’s an industry term). Sort of like me lately.
Before long I’d zeroed in on the problem:
I volunteer the upkeep of Brother’s lawn and our gardens,
I volunteer caring for his livestock,
I volunteer vacuuming the avalanche of dog hair in the main house (his house) three times a week before he ever asked me to help him out with it. I admit, I do this so I don’t feel bad using his vacuum cleaner in my cottage.
Shortly after returning from the pastures this morning I became annoyed by all this – yet again.
It appears I threw off my groove.
With the emotional turmoil and all the changes in the household lately, Brother’s been quite overwhelmed. Been there, done that. They’re his problems, not mine. Still, I care about him and I understand his situation – and his occasional crankiness.
I must say here that Brother is mostly kind and generous. He is not obligated, but allows me use of his vehicles and is keeping the Tracker, what we call the Wanna-be Jeep mostly for me. He tells me often he appreciates how I always refuel all the vehicles and I check the oil and water every time I drive. No matter how busy he is, he checks in on me if he doesn’t see me. He offers me cash any time he imagines I need it. And he always says (or texts) “Goodnight. ‘Love you.”
He even took it upon himself to replace my ugly old shower curtain rod with a newer, shiny chrome one that matches the fixtures. It’s what he does.
Because he primarily sees the demands on his time, he doesn’t actually notice all I do to help out. It’s what I do.
After my rant at the cottage walls subsided, convicted by my attitude, I got to my knees.
It’s funny the way prayer works.
Shortly after I amen-ed, I realized I’d allowed Brother’s problems to take priority over my work – my job. What’s more, I’m sure he has no idea.
But here’s the twist: Today I recognize my problem is I haven’t treated him like my brother. I’ve treated him like a landlord. Okay, so I wouldn’t care so much about a business relationship and would quickly insist a landlord hire a gardener, repairman, etc. But I’d never let my brothers take advantage of me (without some serious shenanigans). Family doesn’t function well like that. Believe me, I know about dysfunction.
I took the focus off my finger pointing at his problems and checked the three pointing back at me. And then I got back on my knees again. Once I regained my spiritual balance, I composed a text and scheduled it for about the time Brother clocks out at work in town:
“I’m returning to my job in the mornings. I can feed/h2o livestock, vegetables n flowers in a.m. You can h2o lawns in the p.m. If you need anything else we can talk. <3”
Walking around, moving the sprinklers, he’ll enjoy the lawns all the more. This feels like a good start in a better direction. I took a deep, sleepy breath.
“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important. Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won’t need to compare yourself to anyone else. For we are each responsible for our own conduct.” Galatians 6:2-5 (NLT)
Erin recently asked me if I’m uncomfortable when I’m not in turmoil about something – anything. I had to laugh out loud. Hours before I had remembered a scenario where my mother stated flatly, “Daddy’s not happy unless he’s miserable about something.” Erin had me wonder for a moment if I’m a formidable chip off Daddy’s block.
My next thought was Roseanne Roseannadanna,* saying, “It’s always something. If it’s not one thing it’s another.”
In The Problem of Pain C.S. Lewis wrote, “…While what we call ‘our own life’ remains agreeable we will not surrender it to Him. What then can God do in our interests but make ‘our own life’ less agreeable to us, and take away the plausible source of false happiness?”
My Life has never been simple. In fact, my life has usually been confounding. It’s my normal.
That may seem harsh, but hardships forged a remarkable relationship with God. There were unmistakable villains in the stories, and sometimes it seems my hand came from a short deck, but my point today is I want to please God. While my focus is upon Him I have peace.
“The thief approaches with malicious intent, looking to steal, slaughter, and destroy; I [Jesus] came to give life with joy and abundance.” The Voice
That doesn’t imply that we’ll always – or ever have everything we want. I’ve always wanted a comfortable home. A house is not my highest priority, but a permanent home would be nice. Erin is often concerned about my happiness here while I care more about a stable environment.
Living with two cats makes me physically miserable. I knew I’m allergic coming in. I could go on about clutter, the property’s state of disrepair, and our health challenges, but those are circumstances. Sure, it all often seems crazy, but again those are circumstances.
Over the years Erin and I spent many long conversations “fixing the world,” so I know her values. Aside from health challenges, I don’t worry much about her. Sometimes she makes me wonder if her brain is firing on all cylinders. She’s always known I need an overhaul.
In the same vein, Lewis also wrote, “…‘We regard God as an airman regards his parachute; it’s there for emergencies but he hopes he’ll never have to use it.’” I may not be giddy in our present circumstances. Still, I have the blessed assurance they can change. Until they do, as with most all things, I trust the God I am certain brought me here – and I’ll hang with Him daily. I’ll probably slip, get lost in the chaos occasionally, make myself miserable, Erin and I will likely butt heads like a couple of old goats. No worries. Love wins.
He is my God, my First Love and my friend; not just my parachute.
“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.” Matthew 6:33
Hey, all y’alls remember Larry the Cable Guy? Okay, after listening to the comedian for twenty minutes his bit got old with me. However, today’s whimper involves my cable internet and phone service, so I’m borrowing Larry CG’s persona.*
Restoring This Old House in particular could provide a month-long series on PBS, HGTV or DIY. So, Old School works well here.
Forget all the ads out there for bundles -and the fine print sales reps don’t mention till the end of the pitch. I’ve checked them all out for our area. Erin must live without her E!-TV, but we save for repairs and upgrades on the property from the entertainment and communications budgets. Utilizing satellite for television, cable for internet and phones we realize a minimum $20/month savings. Just don’t get me started on life without a DVR. Who knew one can’t program a VHS recorder without the remote?
So, our internet, land line and my (unlimited through Wi-Fi) cells services come to us from the wonderful people at “Mapper” Cable Company– who only recently came to our part of the Western Slope.
When I noticed cars stop in the street to talk to Mr. First Tech who was parked in front of the house, I thought, “My, this is such a friendly town!” It was actually the first sign that Mapper service is under par with my previous experiences in Chicago, Phoenix and Fort Worth.
Larry, our third tech in four weeks came in musing how customers don’t understand he’s dispatched from remote parts of the country, so he can’t just swing by to look into their problems too. “They seem to see red when they notice the Mapper sign on the truck,” he went on as he happily accepted some sweet tea. This actually is a friendly town – just sayin’.
So early Thursday Larry devoted himself to confirming Mr. First Tech and Mr. Second Tech’s reports – both now closed as PNF (Problem Not Found). A healthy hour later, he affirmed the frequent crashes I continue to experience are most likely ‘at the pole.’ To be sure he covered all bases he swapped out the modem and router for brand new ones (whoop-whoop) and promised to order a service check at the pole (technical paraphrase mine 😉 ). ‘Guess he liked the tea.
But this morning’s fitness walk complicated the whole unfortunate sequence of events when my flip knife wasn’t on my dresser where it had been Thursday morning – before Larry’s arrival. Seriously, flipping the car, every room, bag, laundry hamper… every square inch I use in the house for two hours didn’t locate the knife.
So try to imagine my reluctance as I explained to Ms Agent at dispatch, “I’m positive Larry isn’t a contractor. I have a keen sense about people. He’s not the kind of guy that would take anything from a customer. He’d been working on the dresser that houses the equipment where I also had the ‘tool’ that’s missing. It’s possible he inadvertently picked it up as he ever-so-considerately cleaned up after himself. I don’t want to generate a report that could ding the man’s record. I just want the tool returned.”
Ms Agent assured me contacting dispatch to reach Larry would be no problem for him or me. I know better. Back in the dark ages I worked dispatch for the same company (before Mapper acquired them). I told Ms Agent how to route a ‘Call Back’ (“it’s an industry term”). Amazed, she thanked me. For a moment I thought, “Cool, not that much has changed.” Then she had to go and say, “Yeah, going old school is healthy once in a while.” Shrew.
So, I no sooner hung up the phone when Girlfriend that had also visited us with Ellie Thursday afternoon, came bouncing up the walk. “Heya Roo! How ya doin?”
Goody, more tea…
The short story, Girlfriend saw the gruesome-looking flip knife on the vanity in the powder room – right where I’d set it so it’s hard, steel edges wouldn’t scratch our nice, oak toilet seat. Knowing we don’t leave things like that laying around for Eight-Year-Old-and-Very-Inquisitive-Niece to find, Girlfriend slipped it into her pocket meaning to hand it over to me. She washed her hands and promptly forgot all about it. Under a deadline, I didn’t walk the neighborhood on Friday, and I didn’t notice the knife missing from where I always, always keep it, on its very own tray on my dresser – until this morning.
Great, now I have guilt for ruining Larry’s career. At least I can now narrate in precise detail the whole new brand of frustrated humiliation, trying to contact Ms Agent again – it simply doesn’t happen. Fortunately, Mapper’s Billing Department STILL hadn’t called me back about crediting my account for all the down time. I spun the call so I could include cancelling the Old School, sequestered Call Back order to Larry.
Another Tech will be scheduled to check the pole issue tomorrow. Mapper’s got two strikes and one ball, so we’ll see. Now I must check next week’s schedule for the Elementary and NCIS episodes I missed during the move. Film at eleven…
“Dear brothers and sisters,when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.” James 1:2
“Books are like seeds. They can lie dormant for centuries and then flower in the most unpromising soil.” (Carl Sagan); “Nothing ever dies on the Internet.” (anon.); “This is not your father’s Oldsmobile.” (Madison Ave. [m]adman). My posts amalgamate these three philosophical elements into one novel experience; they champion critical thinking, human dignity / equality, levelheaded / even-handed / liberty-based governance and solid environmental stewardship. C’mon in!
What Next: Behind Roo's Ruse 