Back in the day, speech judges suggested I consider a career in TV or Radio broadcasting. Humorous, since I rarely pay attention to either. Nick had a brilliant idea for a new voice mail message for his cell phone—an important news flash about an escaped maniacal penguin which interrupted his usual greeting. Most entertaining were the friends who thought my voice was an actual automated recording.
I’d been attempting to play some rag-time when Sleeper arrived, guitar in tow, hoping for a jam session. It’s been too long since I’d played with a guitar. Leaning back in his chair, his feet propped on the piano bench, he dragged inspiration out of me with misinformed statements like: “You know what you’re doing. Just play!” Just when Sleeper’d be getting the hang of my chord progression, I’d change it up or throw in some off chord, just to see what he’d do. “If I ever record a CD,” he said, shaking his head at one point, “You’re playing piano.” To hear some real piano, he should play with Bruce. What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve never played like that before in my life and likely never will again. Perhaps that maniacal penguin has rubbed off on me.
My brother is a good man. His e-mail reply this morning tied up one issue in a neat little package to put away in my china cabinet for later. Lauren finished the task with a phone call in the afternoon. I know I over evaluate, and wind up only wrestling myself—a losing situation, it seems. Conversely, God’s grace can turn it on end for a win-win. Lauren even tossed out the possibility of co-authoring a book, or even a blog, devoted to exploring issues for godly women from both sides of the fence: singleness and marriage.
“They” say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. “They” have never learned the secret of contentment—I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Today I am the Lord’s single woman, living under my father’s protection, headship and guidance. Today I re-evaluated my life in light of honoring him and discovered it severely lacking as wish after wish, goal after goal of his came to mind that I had left incomplete or marked unimportant. If I want to embrace the Lord’s will, I must embrace my father’s ministry and do what I can to further it by serving him. The temptation to simply “try to do better” was strong, but the conviction that I should confess my negligence to him won out. To mentally decide to surrender is not to lay down one’s sword. Embarrassing it is that my dad and I communicate best through e-mails—but we are both visual. Write it out for us and we’ll get it. I wrote out for him how the Lord had used his teaching Sunday to convict me and then listed the things I could think of that I’d not finished, asking for his direction in them. His reply was a gracious and kind acknowledgement. Details will follow shortly.
The rest of the day I tried to bring closure to several dragging tasks he’d asked me to do. Every step of the way I ran headlong into brick walls. Someone needed me for this. Could I do that? Phone calls wouldn’t go through, customer service certainly didn’t seem interested in helping the customer. How am I supposed to fulfill my great aspirations of serving my dad if the rest of the universe doesn’t share them? Sit still and the day is calm, but start running and you’ll feel the wind tugging against you. But at the end of the day, it’s the one who ran into the wind who sleeps the soundest.
Yahweh, Thou art great and kind,
Thou will not leave my soul behind
When Thou dost gather those Thou loves
To carry us to Thee, above.
Yahweh, teach me to rejoice
And lift an ever thankful voice
To Thee, for Thou hast heard my prayers
And hushed and stilled all of my cares.