For When You’re Too Tired

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I didn’t think I could be this tired and not be asleep. I’ve actually been so tired that I have trouble sleeping, as weird and wrong as that sounds. Plus, I’ve been having some very David Lynch-esque dreams.

I’m reminded of a few things that it’s good to think about when you’re tired.

Everything’s more annoying and I have very little patience with people. I truly “vant to be left alone” as Greta Garbo was always famous for saying. Maybe she was sleep deprived, too.

It’s easy to make comments– or lack of comments– seem much more than they really are. What might have been an oversight suddenly seems like an intentional snub. What is probably just an offhand remark comes across as an insult or a put-down.

It’s easy (at least for me) to think the worst of people when I am super-sleepy and even easier for me to want to give up on them. That monster called Woe-is-me rears its ugly head and makes you think that nobody REALLY cares about you, that eventually they will all desert you.

Fears become amplified and worries take on almost superhuman overtones. You can feel overwhelmed and defeated by the smallest details of your life when you’re tired enough.

By the way, this iPad that I normally love is annoying the crap out of me by not typing what I want it to. Or more truthfully, it’s supposed to read my mind instead of going with what my very sleep-deprived fingers are typing. Duh.

God is good when I am tired and He loves me when I am grouchy. His grace is sufficient for the sleep-deprived and restless (even if they aren’t so young anymore).

I am still growing in grace, which means I make allowances for me to be less than perfect and mature all the time. I know just as I understand when my friends and family have less than stellar moments, those who truly care about me will allow me to be Oscar the Grouch on rare occasions. Just as long as it’s not too often.

I’m thankful on this Thanksgiving Eve for comfy beds, good friends and family, and God’s promise to give sleep and rest to those He loves and cherishes. Which includes you and me.

So good night and sleep tight and don’t let any of those bedbugs bite. And may you hear once more the song of peace and joy thatvyour Abba Father will sing over you again tonight.

Frump Girl and God’s Grace

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Ian Miller: I know this great place… Zorba something… anyway, I’d love to take you there if you’d like to go.
Toula Portokalos: Uh, that place, Dancing Zorba’s…
Ian Miller: Dancing Zorba’s!
Toula Portokalos: My family kinda owns that place.
Ian Miller: [looking at her closely] I remember you. You’re that waitress.
Toula Portokalos: Seating hostess.
Ian Miller: I remember you.
Toula Portokalos: Look, I was going through a phase. . . up until now. I was Frump Girl.
Ian Miller: I don’t remember Frump Girl, but I remember you. (from My Big Fat Greek Wedding).

I love that last line. What Ian is saying is that he saw past the awkwardness and the insecurity to the inner beauty waiting to be revealed. An inner beauty that he had a hand in unveiling.

Sometimes with God, I feel like saying, “God, remember me? That promise-breaker? That doubter? That worrier?”

God’s response would be, “I don’t remember Promise-Breaker or Doubter or Worrier, but I remember you.”

You might remind God of a past addiction to pornography or alcohol or status. You might throw in adultery (like David), or deceit (like Jacob), or outright lying (like Abraham). You might show God Polaroids of the wreck your life used to be. God doesn’t see that.

What does God see?  Thanks to the cross, God sees you as though you had never sinned, never broken a promise, never doubted, never wavered in your faith at all.

He looks at you and sees the finished product, the stunning reveal. He looks at you right now and sees Jesus in all His perfection and glory. And He likes what He sees.

Better yet, He’s wildly in love with what He sees.

I know the mirror’s not a fun place to look at 5:30 am on a Monday morning. There can be some scary critters looking back.

But remember God not only has claimed you and renamed you, but He has redefined your past. Once you were an enemy, now you are an heir and a child of God. Your past no longer dictates your future. God does.

Just think about that and see how it changes your week.

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Losing Your Way

I went to downtown Franklin like so many other times before. In fact, I’ve made the drive so much I can go into autopilot and be thinking about other things while I navigate those familiar roads.

This time, apparently I got too wrapped up in my own thoughts and made one of my turns a block too early. I looked up and for a second I thought, “Where the heck am I? What have they done with my downtown Franklin?”

I figured out what I had done and had to do a bit of a scenic detour to get to my destination, but I got there.

At some point or another, we all get lost. Sometimes we get lost in our thoughts. Sometimes we get lost in a web of anxiety and irrational thinking and find ourselves saying things and acting in ways that aren’t true to who we really are.

But no matter how far out of the way you’ve gone, it’s always possible to get back.

Sometimes it takes being a part of something greater than yourself, volunteering for a cause that is way bigger than your own problems.

Sometimes it takes a friend gently but firmly speaking the truth to you in love to set you straight.

Sometimes it takes going to a favorite place on a perfect night and being in the moment with cool spring breezes and familiar sights and sounds.

Everyone gets lost. Even in the healing process, you will have bad days where you fall back to old habits and fears. I had one of those last Tuesday, but I’ve since owned it and moved forward. It’s okay to admit what you’re feeling, to be okay with the bad days because you know they are as equal a part of the healing process as the good days.

Most of all, there is never a time when Jesus doesn’t know where you are. He knows because he’s right there with you, often walking beside you unnoticed as you’re too enveloped in the fog of your pain and doubt to see him.

For those who know what it’s like to be lost and then found, you truly know what a sweet sound amazing grace is.

 

A Bittersweet Christmas

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It’s been a bittersweet 2012 Christmas.

I’ve loved being with family and seeing my 14-month old niece getting the hang of walking and just starting to say her first words. Seeing my nephews’ faces light up with all their Christmas presents has been fun, too.

But today I’ve also been thinking a lot about my granddaddy who took his life 30 years ago tonight. It was Christmas Day 1982 when he decided that life wasn’t worth living anymore.

I still remember where I was when I found out about his suicide. I remember my pastor at the time coming over to tell me and how my 10-year old brain couldn’t process the news, so I went back to my room to watch the football game on my little black-and-white TV. I still don’t think I’ve completely processed it yet.

I have trouble remembering what he looked like, especially when he smiled, or what his laugh sounded like. I do know that I still miss him and I have so many things I’d like to tell him.

I’d tell him that he missed out on a lot. Like my sister and I growing up. Her getting married and having children. All of us getting older and closer together as a family. And most of all, how we’ve found God to be a comfort and a refuge.

I’d tell him that we all loved him so much. That we still love him so much, even 30 years after he left us. I’d tell him that there’s nothing so bad that family can’t help, and especially God’s love can’t get you through.

I’d say that I understand now a little better why he did what he did. I’m glad that he’s found peace at last in the arms of Jesus and has no more fears or worries or self-doubts.

I have something that belonged to him– an old tube radio from the 50’s that still works. It’s nice to be able to turn it on and think that I’m listening to the same radio that he kept on his workbench all those years. It makes me smile and remember him in happier times.

I’m a little more thankful for my family tonight. I hope to hug them more often, be more present in their lives, and tell them I love them as often as possible. You never know when it could be the last time you might have the chance.

A Good Lesson from A Lost Key

I went walking on the beach today in my ever-so-stylish swimming trunks. Imagine the polar opposite of speedos and you have an idea of what they looked like.

I headed out to the beach and went about waist-deep into the ocean. I waded like that for a while before I remembered to reach down and see if my key to the condo was still in my pocket. It was not.

I had a moment of panic. Or more accurately, a minor heart attack. I was thinking of how my keys were probably halfway to the Bahamas, or wherever the next destination is across from the ocean in South Carolina. I was figuring out in my head how much the fee for a lost key would be.

When I got back to my beach chair and looked through my backpack, there my key was where I left it when I took it out of my pocket. Apparently, I outsmarted myself again.

Sadly, this was not the first time I was too smart for my own good. On a college and career retreat to Panama City, I was convinced that I had lost my watch on the beach, only to find it in my bed. After much panicking and searching and fretting.

I was reminded tonight of the prodigal on his way back home to see his father. He was thinking, “I have lost everything. How am I going to explain that? What excuse could I possibly use to keep from getting unceremoniously thrown out the door?”

Little did he know that his father was already running down the road to meet him, not caring about all the money he wasted. All the father cared about was that his son had come home.

God doesn’t care about your wasted days and years. He doesn’t care about how you misused all those gifts he gave you. All he cares about is seeing you come home.

I worried for nothing. I made a big deal out of nothing. All my fears turned out to be groundless lies.

Whatever is keeping you from coming back to God is a lie. As big as your sin or mistake or failure, God’s grace is bigger. A past of shame and scars and waste is no barrier to the great love of God. There is nothing to heinous or scandalous that he won’t forgive. Nothing.

Your Father God is calling you. Will you come home?

Just Relax

I have yet another confession to make. I over-analyze everything. Well, most things anyway. I can wreck myself thinking too much about conversations I’ve had where I spoke and should have been silent or was silent and should have spoken. I’ve analyzed to death things friends have said that really didn’t mean what I thought they meant.

The word for today for me (and for you if you’re like me) is RELAX. Don’t over-analyze and don’t try so hard to force an outcome in your situation. Instead, enjoy the moment and watch expectantly for God to act.

I don’t mean veg out on the couch and eat bon-bons all day (or oreos, if you feel bon-bons aren’t manly enough). Live your life and have faith, or as Oswald Chambers said, “Trust God and do the next thing.”

God will act when He’s ready. When you’re really and truly ready and not when you think you are ready. In my experience, the longer the wait is, the better the surprise God has for you.

Sometimes, you wait until you think you can’t wait any longer. You hold out until you are absolutely about to run out of patience and strength and willpower. And then you wait some more. You come to the end of yourself and all your schemes and plans and the only prayer you can pray is, “Lord, help.”

The last time I checked, God was still sovereign. God was (and is) still in control. He still knows the number of hairs on your head and the number of tears you cry in the night. He more than anyone knows the secret desires of your heart and He more than anyone knows what will make you come alive and where you were created to be.

So relax. God’s got this. Like the old saying goes: there is a God and you’re not Him. I know for me, that’s a big load off my shoulders.