>> Monday, May 17, 2010
Last I left off in this not-so-magical tale of beer, my looming to-do list and the pressures of my domestic universe were quickly overtaking me, causing me much smoking of the ears, and many burstings of inner gaskets.
What came next happened as quick as lightning.
Somehow, I managed to string some coherent words together that caused my husband to find himself finishing up the bacon, feeding the baby, and making my breakfast. I mumbled something about "a few minutes" and "be right back", and stumbled to my office, closing the door behind me.
"Ok, God," I prayed, "I need your help NOW. Help me out of this Crazy Wife
And then I saw it.
Just a scrap piece of paper, kickin' it on my desk, staring at me nonplussed.
I had written on it earlier in the week to remind myself of something I needed to focus on. "It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God--that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written, 'Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.'" 1 Corinthians 1:30-31
I read it over again, and then again after that. My thoughts were beginning to regroup, my focus was beginning to sharpen. I read it yet again.
Suddenly, my door opened. "Hey, everything ok?" asked Aaron. "No," I replied, "For some reason I'm in a really bad mood."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"I don't know, but I need to get out of it. Just give me a couple minutes."
He looked at me like uh, okay, but he humored me and closed the door to let me have my time.
I dove back into the Bible verse. Suddenly I was facing the mirror. Egad, who is that ugly chick? Oh, it's me. I really hate when God's Word does that. I mean, I like the long-term, sanctifying effects, but in the meantime, it's like ripping a particularly sticky band-aid off of a particularly hairy arm.
I was connecting the dots in my mind, or should I say the dots were being connected for me in my heart? What was my number one focus that morning? Myself. Who was going to care about the spots on the chrome? Me. Who really cared if I made--as opposed to bought--some Mother's Day cards? Moi. Who cared if I had to work on a Sunday? This girl. What cosmic, eternal effects would it have if I didn't do these things today?
Then I cried for a few moments. My couple minutes were almost up. I pulled my sanctified self together and opened the office door.
To be continued...