I swear, these days it seems like a week lasts about two days. I feel like last Thursday was yesterday and here we are about to embark on another Friday. Not that I’m complaining. It’s just hard to keep up sometimes.

I’m ready for my customary sleep-in Saturday. I’m ready to turn off the alarm clock and not have to wake up at the undignified and ungodly hour of 5 am. I’m ready to sit on the couch and drink my coffee and just be.

Also, a week from today is July 1. Next thing you know it will be July 4. Then August. Then fall will be here. Then it will be time to decorate the tree and sing Christmas carols. Falalala-what? I haven’t even bought any presents yet. I’m not ready for any of this.

So I think I’ll just enjoy my Friday, drink my coffee-flavored sugar milk, and not worry about anything but being in the moment.

To me, foot cramps are the worst. There’s almost nothing worse than being all comfy in bed, only to flex your foot wrong and have it cramp. For me, the only way to get rid of a foot cramp is to climb out of bed and walk it off.

Thankfully, foot cramps are rare for me, but any foot cramp is one too many in my book. Having to get out of bed for any reason after getting settled in is not a fun occasion.

I suppose in the grand scheme of things, foot cramps are far from the worst possible outcome. In fact, they’re more of an inconvenience than anything. But in that moment when you feel your foot cramp, it does seem like the world is coming to an end.

Anne LaMott once said that bananas are the only known cure for existential dread. Apparently, they also work well for preventing foot cramps. Maybe I need to get back to eating more bananas.

Recently, I was feeling thrifty, so I trekked over to Goodwill. One of my discoveries was a copy of Gregg Allman’s autobiography, entitled My Cross to Bear. That in itself would have been enough, since I am a big fan of the Allman Brothers Band and Gregg’s solo output.

When I opened up to the title page, I found Gregg’s signature, with the inscription “To Little Martha, Gregg Allman.” I also discovered that the book is a first edition. That was completely unexpected.

That’s the joy of thrifting. You never know what you’ll find. Sometimes, you get nothing. Sometimes, you find good stuff. But on rare occasions, you find treasures.

That’s life. If you keep your eyes open and stay in the moment, you never know what you’ll find. If you’re not so focused on getting to the weekend, you might discover hidden treasure buried in the middle of the week. It could be a conversation with a friend, a hug from a family member, a breathtaking sunset, or words of wisdom from one of your children. It could be a memory from someone you hold dear in your heart who is no longer with you.

So your instructions are these: 1) live your life intentionally as much as possible, 2) pay attention to the world around you, and 3) be amazed. You truly never know what God will show you next.

So much of life is joy mingled with sorrow. There is no escaping it. The world we live in is a beautiful but broken creation, having lost much of its original design but still bearing faint traces of glory.

I think about this day four years ago when I lost my little cat Lucy. I don’t pretend to compare my loss with those who have lost parents or spouses or children. Still, it is a loss. June 21, 2017 still remains one of the saddest days in my memory.

Then nine days later, I went to the Williamson County Animal Shelter and got chosen by a feisty little tortie kitten who later became Peanut. The memory of that day brings me joy.

I have to remind myself that pure joy can’t be found in this life. Only at the consummation of all things at Jesus’ return will my joy be complete. Every happy memory is tainted with a touch of sadness.

It’s the now and not yet of the Kingdom of God. It’s like seeing a dirty reflection in a mirror, knowing one day we shall see Him face to face with undimmed eyes.

So we wait and hope with joy and certainty as we say, “Come, Lord Jesus!”

“The fact is, I need God to help me love God. And if I need His help to love Him, a perfect being, I definitely need His help to love other, fault-filled humans. Something mysterious, even supernatural must happen in order for genuine love for God to grow in our hearts. The Holy Spirit has to move in our lives” (Francis Chan).

The older I get, the more I realize the truth of this. The more I see how innately selfish I am, as I suspect most of us do if we’re honest. Left to myself, my greatest love would be for myself.

But thankfully, God doesn’t leave me alone. God never at any time or in any place for any reason leaves anyone alone who calls to Him in faith.

The truth of the matter is that I can love God or anyone else at all because God first loved me and showed me how. Better yet, I can love with the same love that God loved me with. I love with God’s love.

I’m also thankful that God’s love for me isn’t the benign and generic kind of indulgent enable-ism that passes for love in this culture. He knows me by name and loves me specifically for who I am as I am with a love that purifies and refines and transforms me into something more like the Beloved.

That’s love. That’s how God loves me. That’s how I’m to love others with a view to their transformation into the likeness and image of the God who loved me first.

“The problem of reconciling human suffering with the existence of a God who loves, is only insoluble so long as we attach a trivial meaning to the word ‘love’, and look on things as if man were the centre of them. Man is not the centre. God does not exist for the sake of man. Man does not exist for his own sake. ‘Thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created’ [Revelation 4:11]. We were made not primarily that we may love God (though we were made for that too) but that God may love us, that we may become objects in which the Divine love may rest ‘well pleased’. To ask that God’s love should be content with us as we are is to ask that God should cease to be God: because He is what He is, His love must, in the nature of things, be impeded and repelled, by certain stains in our present character, and because He already loves us He must labour to make us lovable. We cannot even wish, in our better moments, that He could reconcile Himself to our present impurities—no more than the beggar maid could wish that King Cophetua should be content with her rags and dirt, or a dog, once having learned to love man, could wish that man were such as to tolerate in his house the snapping, verminous, polluting creature of the wild pack. What we would here and now call our ‘happiness’ is not the end God chiefly has in view: but when we are such as He can love without impediment, we shall in fact be happy”

I’ve heard that sometimes when you can’t find the words to pray, you can borrow the words from someone else. That’s one of the main reasons that I’m a fan of prayer books and liturgies. It helps to be able to pray the words of saints who have gone before and walked the same road that we’re walking now. It helps to hear your own thoughts and desires expressed for you better than you could ever have said it yourself.

Best of all, even when there are absolutely no words at all — only tears and sighs and groans — the Father knows because the Spirit of God translates those longings too deep for words into psalms and hymns to God. You are always heard.

For me, it was finding toothpaste on sale that got me excited. Also, it makes me happy when I find my favorite Old Spice deodorant at Target. Dish soap? Not so much.

I read somewhere that being an adult means going to bed when you don’t want to and also getting up when you don’t want to. it’s when you sneeze too hard and pull a muscle. Adulting is highly overrated.

Some days, I’d give just about anything for my old blanket fort and a coloring book. And maybe one of those ginormous 64-crayon sets. But mostly I just need a nap.

It occurred to me today that five years ago, I took my first cat Lucy to the vet and got a good report back. All her bloodwork and other tests came back fine. A year later, I took her to the same vet, and she turned out to be very sick, only days away from crossing the rainbow bridge.

It’s difficult to remember everything from that long ago, but I’m certain I would never have guessed five years ago what would transpire in a year. It never dawned on me at that point that I could lose my beloved feline. I probably took for granted that she would be with me for a long while.

I know friends who have lost loved ones very suddenly. I can’t claim to be a mind reader, but I know planning for a funeral was not in their agenda. Grieving the passing of a loved one wasn’t on their radar.

The older I get, the more I realize that it’s important — no, it’s vital — that you learn to cherish all the days you’re given. Cherish all the people in your life. Cherish each and every moment you can. You almost never know when a moment or a conversation or a gathering will be the last one.

More than ever, it’s important to hold on to everything in your life with open hands, ready to let go when it’s time. The only time when you need to grasp tightly is when you’re holding on to Jesus. He’s your constant in a world of change.

The beautiful part is that even when you can’t hold on to Jesus, when you’re too tired and weak, that’s when you find that Jesus has been the one holding on to you all this time. He’s the one who will not let go and won’t grow weary.

You never know when the hard dark days will come, but you can know for sure that Jesus will be there.

I think the older I get, the less I am able to deal with hot weather. Actually, what gets to me is the humidity. I don’t mind hot days with low humidity nearly as much as when it feels like I walk outside and I’m instantly sweating and swimming though air think with moisture.

I typically like summer and winter . . . for about two or three weeks. Then I’m ready for the next season. My favorites are spring and fall, with fall winning because of almost all my favorite holidays being in the fall.

Summer is more fun when you live near an ocean or a lake or a large body of water. Or swimming pools. I can close my eyes and almost recall the salty scent of the breezes coming off the ocean. Plus, the sound of waves crashing on the beach never fails to soothe me.

What I’m saying is that I need a beach vacation, which is unlikely. What I also need is air conditioning, and lots of it. I probably need to drink more water and keep it with me when I’m outside.

Most of all, I need fall to get here. Pronto.