A Little Fishy

Photo by: viergacht@Pixabay

The other morning, I decided to read the last few pages of my book before I delved into my devotions. But when I turned on my Kindle, it started a long series of updates, the first since I bought it two years ago. Go figure.

So, I read my devotions while it updated. They took about the same amount of time as my morning readings and prayers.  

A little fishy, don’t you think?

Another morning this last week, I dared to peek at personal and social messages before I started my devotions. My phone froze when I tried to open the first app, forcing me to restart it. While it rebooted, I read my meditations. Again, it finished about the same time I finished my prayers.

Fishy, indeed.

I woke the next morning with a new idea for my current novel whirling in my mind. While coffee brewed, I turned on my computer. I’d start my devotions right after I got the scene written.

I’m sure you’ve guessed it.

My computer required updates before I could open my Word doc. The little message stated it would take a while, long enough to read my devotions.  

Now that wasn’t just fishy. That was a whale.

I had another incident. I let my blood pressure get too low. Those of you familiar with that feeling, one symptom is irritation at everything. My husband is hard of hearing, and it tries my patience at times. That morning, I snapped at him and stomped around the kitchen.

When I sat down and opened my devotionals, this title slapped me in the face.

Anger: A Tricky Emotion. “The old expression says that we have two ears and one mouth…. we should listen twice as much as we speak.” The reading went on to say we shouldn’t let anger fester. Instead, we need to recognize the emotion and proceed carefully, changing it from destructive action or words into “fuel for transformation, healing, and inspired action.”

Sheesh! Well, God got this wayward Christian’s attention.

Silliness aside, I am honored that God loves me enough to remind me what is important and to chastise me when I fail to live out my faith.  

Thank you, Lord, for guiding, teaching, and loving this flawed human creation of Yours. Amen.

After Thirty Days — What Matters Most?

One month since my surgery. What is at the top of my priority list? Comfort.

Oh, to feel comfortable again.

My swim in the waters of continuous pain these last thirty days have given me a whole new appreciation for the pain free days of the past and empathy for those dealing with chronic pain. However, I am fortunate. My discomfort is easing every day and should end once my mastectomy reconstruction is completed (in five or six months).

With restricted activities, I evaluate everything according to my doctors’ guidelines and what my body deems comfortable.

Patience is my current mantra. It’s not as hard as it used to be. My body lets me know how much I can do with loud, insistent messages I can’t ignore.

Expert say it takes thirty days to change habits. Will my priorities remain the same after my full recovery, or will I revert to old ways?

I may slip now and then, but my scars and other body changes will be constant reminders of what matters most — life and my relationship with God and others.

As I add in other activities, it will be important to ask if it’s worth my time and energy. If it doesn’t enhance my life, or another’s, then it doesn’t belong on my list.

What about you? What guidelines determine where and how you spend your time and energy?

God First, Before Everything?

Original photo by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

We’ve all read the scriptures how the disciples literally dropped everything and followed Jesus when he called them. For a moment, let’s put ourselves in that picture. What would it really entail?

I imagine Jesus knocking on my door, right now. I am sitting on the couch next to my husband with my computer and morning coffee. I’m in my robe. My hair is a mess. I haven’t had any breakfast. Do I answer the door?

If I go that far, and find Jesus standing there, beckoning me, could I walk out without turning back? Could I leave my husband without telling him where I am going? If I hesitate, am I putting other things before God?

 I really have to think that one over. Leaving without saying a word to my husband seems cruel. I can’t imagine God wanting me to hurt anyone, but he does want me to put him first — over everything, even my husband.

So, how does that go along with loving your neighbor as yourself?

What Can I Live Without?

This last week has been a tough lesson in what I things I truly need. It seems every day something broke. First, it was my husband’s laptop. Then, the ceiling fan in the living room stopped working. The hot water valve in the guest bath clogged with sediment and there isn’t any hot water for the tub. The garbage disposal is making an awful ruckus and we’re afraid to use it. The tailgate on our pickup truck broke and we can’t open it. One of the automatic sprinklers isn’t working right.

The final straw: the coffee maker quit. I must admit I felt disheartened and started worrying about what else was going to go wrong, and how in the world we would manage to fix everything now that we are both retired.

We sat down and made a list of what needs to be fix now, and what can wait. In truth, none of it is urgent, except the tailgate on the truck.

We did, however, do some research on how to repair each item and found fixes for some. A system reset repaired my husband’s laptop. A YouTube video showed my husband how to fix the truck's tailgate. The parts were only $40.00.

Treasures and Priorities

The crash, followed by silence meant trouble.  I rushed into the kitchen and immediately saw the shattered plate on the counter. My eyes then flew to my husband. He stood by the sink running water over the fingers on his right hand.

"Are you hurt?"

"Burned my hand pretty good."

"Oh, Honey. Are you alright?"

"I'll know in a minute."

"What happened?"

"I didn't realize I'd turned the burner on under the plate and when I touched the plate, it of course burned me. I pushed the plate off the burner, but it shattered when it touched the counter."

"Were you cut?"

"No. Just burned."

I looked at the shattered plate. It was a piece of Franciscan China given to me forty years ago as a wedding present. Although that wedding ended in divorce, it had been given to me by my family and I treasured it. Since marrying Bill, pieces, mostly dinner plates, had been gradually disappearing. The set was now down to only five dinner plates out of the original eight. I had not heard the story behind the other disappearances, and could only wonder at how they met their demise. 

I pushed those thoughts aside and turned back to my husband. Large blisters emerged on all five of his finger tips.

"Honey, you really should put some burn cream on those and then bandage them."

"I'll think about it."

"And,if you go to the doctor, he will give you this amazing antibiotic cream that will immediately reduce the pain as well as protect your burns from infection. I really think you should go."

"I'll give it a little longer and then see."

I knew it was useless push any further, and with misgivings dressed and headed to work. As I drove, I thought of the plate, and could hear my mother cautioning me to be careful with my things. As a result of her advice I have many things I have kept safe for years, until I met Bill. He isn't purposely hard on things, but he is like the proverbial bull in my china shop. 

The silverware set I had received along with the china was now gone. Spoons kept disappearing until there were only four left out of a set of sixteen. Bill eventually confessed to accidentally grinding them in the garbage disposal. He has a habit of putting all the dirty dishes in the same side of the sink with the disposal and the teaspoons are short enough to disappear into the opening. Lying unseen, they become victims to the steel blades.

After his confession about the silverware, I stated, "Honey, I've had that set for forty years!"

His response indicated how different our thought patterns and priorities were. "Well, I guess it was about time you got a new set."

This comment left me speechless, and acutely aware my priorities are not always in the right order. I sometimes laid up the very treasures Jesus had warned against. Certainly I should be a good steward and not be careless with the things I am given, but they are not to be treasured above family - or God. And, Bill was right. All my priceless treasures can be replaced. Maybe not with anything identical, but definitely replaced with something able to provide the same function. That isn't true of God, or my family. They are irreplaceable treasures far more important than a piece of china, or a picture or any other keepsake.

I will admit, it wasn't any easy lesson. I was very tempted to mourn over the demise of that beautiful plate, the symbol of a  treasured gift, and it took some effort to treasure the giver over the gift. One final thought settled the matter.

When God calls me home to Him, I don't want to be remembered as the woman who had an entire set of unbroken china in her cupboard. I'd rather be remembered as the woman who loved God and her family.

Now when I look at that china set (and at our new silverware), I think of priorities and where mine need to be.