Again another blog. Another attempt to release these ridiculous thoughts from a tired head. I am no good at talking, at least not when it would be most appropriate. No, in the appropriate times I listen. I spend most of my social life listening. Either I have nothing important enough to say, or I can’t think of a way to say it. I have to type it out in my head over and over. My thoughts are being relentlessly bombarded with Backspaces. Then it’s too late and the conversation is over.
I’ll start by describing my usual day. I awake to my cell phone’s MIDI rendition of a hard rock song, cowbell included, and my dog’s demand for the morning belly rub. After one reconfiguration of the clock’s alarm to allow me fifteen more minutes, I realize I don’t have the time and fall to my feet. I pace in the backyard, avoiding the most evil ants God has created while my precious pooch finds a home for her urine. Of course, second by second I have to constantly remind her the reason we’re in the backyard. Once she gets the point and does her thing, I finish with the normal morning you probably participated in today.
Then there is Work with a capital W. I arrive at the office, begging God to not allow my weak mind to forget my purpose throughout my experiences of the day. Five minutes later I am beating myself up for laughing with my coworkers’ mocking of the crazy horse lady. For the rest of my day, my mind is beaten down by hundreds of issues that probably shouldn’t be issues and could easily be ignored because they really don’t matter… but must be resolved. I take comfort in the fact that these faux issues are my faux job security.
I leave, feeling disappointed that my day was God-less. I drive home asking forgiveness, then get distracted by my unending thoughts. I walk in my home and I see my wife, and I feel joyful tears drowning my heart in ecstasy. Suddenly I remember how the day truly goes…
I purposely breathe at my desk, because the air has been given to me without my deserving. I purposely hear what people are saying to me, because they were made as I was, have feelings as I do, and breathe the same God-given air as I have been given. I purposely speak in a tone that tells others that I really do care, because they crave love and acceptance in the same way I do. I purposely turn my eyes away from the papers and the screen to look them in the eyes, because Work will wait for a human soul’s yearnings. I purposely high-five the stressed out mother-of-three, because she laughs when she least expects it and loves it as much as I do.
I realize, day after day, that my worries about following the Lord are purely wastes. He knows my heart and directs me even when I’m not paying attention. I am just asking him to help me pay more attention.
