And the Oscar Goes to . . .

Obviously not me because I am not a good actress. I'm a decent prepared speaker, but I cannot ad lib or give impromptu presentations. Yet, I was persuaded to try acting once during a New Year's Eve party. It was all caught on tape. One that I, and I alone, used to possess. I think it has been destroyed because it was so painful to watch as I struggled to portray the designated scene I drew from the hat. Something along the lines of role playing people at a nursing home, using swimming noodles as canes.

But it's times like these when I wish I could rely on natural acting talent. To act like I'm not nervous. To come across as thoroughly prepared.

I'm not, and that frustrates me. I don't want to come off as the newbie professor. Mostly because I can't recall a single professor or teacher I had who appeared nervous or anxious on the first day of class. All of their lectures seem perfectly timed to cover the exact amount of material that was assigned. Something I took for granted until now.

But I cannot be other than who I am: The new adjunct professor who has no idea if she can speak for an hour and fifty minutes.

I'm debating how much of this struggle to reveal up front. Because the tiny percent of me that isn't nervous says that I ought to simply be real. To lay out my fears and ask for the students to help me along with questions. Because there's no way of getting around the school's requirements that we must meet for the allotted time EVERY week, with no early releases. That already puts several strikes against me, but hopefully all of the professors are on an equal playing field when it comes to this requirement.

And so I plan a little more. And pray a lot. Hoping that tomorrow goes smoothly. I'll try to post the "results" tomorrow. Until then, I hope there's not any drama worthy of an oscar.

Catching the "I" in Pride

I caught myself saying, "I pulled off a surprise party for my boss's birthday today."

The fact of the matter is that all I did was send an email to invite people. I know better than to think that I have control over nine people's schedules, as was obvious by the fact that this was almost called off on Friday and then one person almost had to back out at the last minute today.

I actually had the gall to steal God's glory and take credit for this event after lifting up a feeble prayer last week that this event wouldn't have to be canceled. Maybe deep down I wanted this gathering to take place so that I would get the credit, though I don't recall putting those words to the panic-like feeling I encountered at the thought of having to cancel the lunch. I guess that's just another example of how feelings can be so deceiving.

To say I'm embarrassed is an understatement. I can't believe that I serve such a wonderful God. One who allowed nine people, who have probably never been in the same room before, to enjoy lunch together. One who answers my prayers, knowing that I'll steal His glory. One who forgives me when I recognize the error of my ways and ask for forgiveness.

Father God, thank You for Your mercy and forgiveness. Forgive me for failing to give You the glory. Today's events were ordained by You long before I was even born. Thank You for the joy You provided and for letting me be a part of such a wonderful celebration. Amen.

Vulnerability

I drove up to the big blue building thinking that a quick fix for my computer, which has not wanted to shut down lately, was just inside the doors. Once inside, I was asked to leave my computer overnight to enable "them" to run diagnostics on the hard drive.

I wasn’t prepared for that. To leave my semi-journal with people who don’t know me but who may want to know me. I immediately thought of adding password protection to all my documents, but then I realized that would be like trying to lock my doors to keep the locksmith at bay. I was leaving my computer with computer geeks. Ones whom I’m sure can crack open password-protected documents all day long, if they desire.

So I drove away empty-handed, worrying about what these computer geeks would think of my writings. Worrying about how much of my soul I had poured into documents. Wondering what they would think of me.

A few hours later, I arrived at another big building hoping for a quick fix for my automobile. Just a tune-up. I thought that I might get my Bible study homework done while I waited. However, the desk clerk thought it was the perfect time to share his life story, including the gory details of how his mother was killed by a serial killer many years ago. My desperate glances toward the mechanics did not bring the help I sought. And so I sat politely listening to his awful story. After all, it fit with the day’s theme of vulnerability.

As I later learned, my worrying was all for naught (as usual). My phone call before closing time proved that no one was interested enough to peruse the files on my computer; it was difficult enough to get anyone who knew where my computer actually was or what its status was. And my phone call today revealed that the mother board crashed during the diagnostic test and may have taken my writings with it.

Thankfully, a dead motherboard can be replaced. So can the soul writing. It just may take a while.

Unchosen . . . Joy

The days of elementary school imprinted on my heart a desire to be chosen. As the captains of the week made their selections for whatever sport we happened to be playing at the time, I hoped with each passing moment that I would be the next person selected. Not being a great athlete, I relied solely on my relationship ties to get selected. And that didn't always go so well.

In the classroom, I wanted my teachers to select me to be the narrator (the character with the most lengthy passages) in everything we read. I hoped that my reading abilities would make me stand out as the clear choice for the role.

Fast forward twenty years. A jury summons arrived in my mailbox. And with all my being, I had ZERO desire to be chosen.

I realize that's not very "American." I recognize that it's my civic duty to vote and to serve on a jury. But I have this control issue and want to be able to go about my day without having to be "released" by someone for bathroom breaks and lunch breaks. I want to be able to plan my week, not wait each day to see if both sides are done presenting their evidence.

So this morning (a/k/a the date of doom), I woke up dreading the task at hand. I prayed that I would be as lucky as I was two years ago. On that day, when all the court assignments were made, I remained in the unassigned general jury pool and was allowed to read a book for half of the day without ever stepping foot into a courtroom or having to answer voir dire questions.

Imagine my chagrin this morning when not only was my name called, but I was assigned to a criminal district court and asked to complete a questionnaire that indicated the case might involve the aggravated sexual assault of a child. Upon completing the questionnaire, we were told to return about three hours later.

Most of the jurors were delighted upon hearing this news. They took the opportunity to stroll around downtown and grab a bite to eat. Meanwhile, I headed back to my office to work. And pray. I prayed for the defendant to plea bargain. Selfish, I know, but that's what I did.

We reported back at 1:00 for the official roll call. The bailiff made jokes and then announced that he had news. He thanked us for our "service" and told us that all the cases set for today had been pleaded during the interim. Woohoo! I shouted a praise, which a passerby might have confused with someone being acquitted of a horrendous crime. I was that relieved to not have to go through the process.

So, for today, I'm okay with not having been chosen--to serve on a jury, that is. And I am reveling in the God who hears me and taking comfort in His promises--that He has chosen me as one of His own.

Today's Convicting Encounter

I arrived to pick up my dry cleaning this evening and noticed that the lady behind the counter was smiling one of those contagious smiles as she waited on the man ahead of me. He left without speaking to her.

I stepped forward and gave the lady my claim ticket. She happily retrieved my clothes. I considered not saying anything more than thank you, but I felt prompted to ask her about the reason for her smile.

"You seem really happy," I finally said.

"Oh, yes! I happy all the time!" (She continued to smile as she spoke.)

"I wish I could be happy all the time," I caught myself saying.

"I happy because I read Buble," she says. I guess the mispronunciation made me have a confused look on my face because she quickly walked over and pointed to her open Bible.

I'm reading through the chronological Bible right now, and my curiosity got the best of me. So I had to ask, "What chapter are you reading?"

"Genesis," she said while continuing to beam.

"Me, too. I'm looking forward to finishing it tomorrow." She nodded as I left.

As I put my clothes in the car, I couldn't help but wonder how many people that lady has inspired, all because of her sweet smile and her willingness to give the Reason for it.

Father God, as I go about my day, please help my countenance to reflect joy and contentment so that I may point others to You. Thank you for putting this woman in my path today as a gentle reminder of how my heart longs to change and look more like Yours.

Firsts

It’s hard for me to believe that Thanksgiving was ten days ago and that I’m just now getting around to writing about it. The reason that I haven’t written until now is that I finally lived in the moment and spent much time simply visiting with my family.

For the first time in six years, my sister came home for Thanksgiving. Because she used to live on the East Coast and now lives on the West Coast, she normally comes home only for Christmas. But this year, she treated us to a visit at Thanksgiving.

And because my sister is the only one in our family who has cooked a turkey, she taught Mom how to cook one. We all pitched in to make the side dishes and desserts, and we created quite a spread. (Only after we had eaten to our hearts’ content did we realize that we had failed to take a picture.)

In addition to our normal tradition of baking while I’m home for Thanksgiving, we created a new family tradition. We are not a family who enjoys fighting crowds, so we did not “drive to the city” to shop at the mall on Black Friday. Instead, we deemed the day “rake and bake” day. We raked for two and a half hours, rested, and then started some of the holiday baking.

I wouldn’t trade that time that I spent with my family for anything. And yet, the planner in me is having trouble dealing with another first: this is the first time that I haven’t gotten my Christmas cards in the mail in time for them to be delivered on December 1. How gross is that? I don’t know where I got that superficial deadline. After all, I don’t win anything for getting my Christmas cards out by a certain date or by being the author of the first Christmas letter to arrive in people’s mailboxes. If anything, I probably perturb people who are still digesting their Thanksgiving.

So this holiday season, I’m trying to truly focus on relationships with my family and friends. And my Christmas cards, well, they’ll get there when they get there.

Moody Weather

(the view outside my house)

Who could be discontent with blue clear skies?

That would be me.

On Monday, my birthday, God decided that stormy weather was in order. I was not a happy camper. People who were kind enough to wish me a happy birthday seemed surprised when I responded in a less than joyful way and mentioned the storms outside. Evidently, the storms had made me a bit glum.

So when I heard the forecast for this weekend included brisk mornings and sunny afternoons, I got excited. I geared up yesterday to write about what a super Saturday I had in store. One with no set agenda. A leisurely Saturday with beautiful weather. What more could I ask for?

Maybe no sinus headaches? That would have been a good prayer to pray.

Shortly after I returned from running errands, which included strolling around the nursery picking out pansies, a massive sinus headache started raging in my cheeks and brain. Not long thereafter, nausea set in. I soon found myself making my way to my bed to attempt to find a position that would make my head stop hurting. I went to bed before the sun did.

Thankfully, today the blue clear skies have reappeared, and so far, I don’t have a sinus headache. I’ve managed to plant the pansies that I bought yesterday and to get some chores done. But a little bit of guilt has set in.

Throughout today, God has shown me how quickly I become discontent when everything doesn’t line up like I want it to. I secretly, or maybe not so secretly, pinned my contentment for the weekend on my ability to enjoy it my way (i.e., doing what I wanted to when I wanted to with beautiful weather, all while remaining pain-free). As soon as the headache set in and stole my ability to do pretty much anything, my contentment vanished. At that point, giving thanks in all circumstances was a far cry from the thoughts that were on my mind.

Tomorrow, forecasters predict that the storms will return. But I don’t want my gloomy attitude to return along with them. Instead, I pray that God will give me strength to be content no matter my circumstances. (Philippians 4:11-13)

Dependence

Today I arrived at work and found that our computers were down. The computer “migration” that was scheduled for the weekend encountered some difficulties and had to continue through today. That left us to ponder what tasks we could do without a computer.

The answer was clear: very few.

It was a bit stunning to see how dependent we have become on computers. Not just as a means of communicating, but as a way--the way--we do our jobs. My job is not in high-tech and was able to be performed before computers were invented. So, I know that it is possible to work without a computer; it’s just that it takes sooooo much longer. And the end product has to be put on the computer anyway to be disseminated to others.

All of this got me thinking about how much time I spend on a computer daily versus how much time I spend with God. It’s obvious from the above that I am fairly dependent on my computer and pretty lost without it. But can I honestly say the same about God? Do I depend on Him like I should? Do I notice when I’m wandering around on my own? Do I feel like I can’t live without Him?

If I’m truthful, some days I’m more dependent than others. Some days I’m totally independent of God, depending completely on my self. Those aren’t days I’m proud of. Thankfully though, most days God gives me at least a few reminders that I need to depend on Him by putting some big tasks before me--tasks that I know I can’t do on my own. But just as I “need” the computer for simple e-mails as well as complex documents, I truly need God for every task, big or small. I just need to get into that mindset.

Looking Up

I noticed the other day that I’ve fallen into a bad habit.

Whenever I take my dog for a walk, I keep my eyes on the ground. I’m constantly scouring the ground around us to see if there is anything that Annie might possibly decide to rescue or eat. She’s a golden retriever, so she feels that it is her task in life to bring me “treasures,” unless she happens to discern that such treasures are edible, at which point she eats that treasure and goes in search of a new treasure that she can bring to me.

And so our walk goes something like this, “No. . . . Don’t eat grass. . . . Drop it. . . . [goes a few steps without trying to retrieve anything] Good girl.” Repeat phrases until we have made it back home.

I know that part of this is due to her upbringing, but that’s not my point.

My point is that for a brief second the other evening, I took my eyes off the ground and looked up. At that moment, God took my breath away. He had painted one of the most gorgeous sunsets that we’ve had all summer. And I almost missed it.

It made me wonder how many gifts from God I’ve missed because I haven’t taken the time to get my eyes off myself or my circumstances and simply look up. Besides sunrises and sunsets, I bet I’ve missed a bunch of smiles. There have probably been rainbows and butterflies and all sorts of neat and beautiful things that I've missed out on.

I don’t want to miss out on these treasures any longer. And so as I begin to lift up my eyes more often, I challenge you to do the same and let me know what you see.

"I lift up my eyes to the hills--
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of Heaven and earth."
--Psalm 121:1-2

Sinful Weeds

With all the rain that we’ve had this summer, I haven’t had many chances to go outside and work in my flower beds to get the weed population under control. There was a brief break in the clouds a few days ago, and I took that opportunity to take back over my flower beds from the grip of all the evil weeds.

I’m reminded each time that I tend my “garden” that there are so many similarities with my spiritual life. As I struggle to pull out a weed whose roots have grown deep into the rock-hard Texas clay, I recognize that this is akin to what happens when I fail to identify a sin in its early stage and uproot it; it takes a firm grip and is harder to get rid of it. Instead of a quick pull, I have to work really hard and exert a lot of effort, possibly even get out some tools, in order to extricate it. It’s kind of a painful, and often dirty, process that usually takes a while.

And one reason for that might be that I’m not tending the garden or my spiritual life as often as I should. If I spent more time in God‘s Word, maybe I’d recognize the sin more quickly; just like if I spent more time in the garden, maybe I’d recognize the weeds more quickly before they could sink their roots down deep. Maybe I’d even take some preventive steps to thwart the sinful weeds from growing in the first place, like praying for God to protect me from going down paths that lead to sin.

“Lord, I pray that you would help me tend my spiritual garden often, that you would keep me on the alert for the sinful weeds that I’m prone to, and that you would help me to keep the soil in my spiritual garden open to growing beautiful flowers instead of sinful weeds.”

Drowning Out The Noise

As I was driving today, I noticed that I was driving right next to a train and didn’t even hear it. The radio in my car wasn’t blaring, but it was enough to cover up the sounds of the train. As I thought about this, I saw some similarities between drowning out the noise of life and living in a cocoon, protected from the burdens in other people’s lives.

I think I was more acutely aware of this today because last night I read a chapter in The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan that talked about paying attention to the details of life. Buchanan encourages readers to restore Sabbath, and one of the practices that he describes to experience Sabbath rest is to stop to find what’s missing. He urges readers, “See it all. Like Adam, name it.”

God’s creation inspires me, but I often don’t let it. I can’t hear the birds singing in the morning because I’ve got the radio on while I’m getting ready for work. I don’t hear the children in the neighborhood playing in the evenings because I have the television on. I can’t hear the locusts at night because I turn on a sound conditioner to cover up the endless barking of the next-door neighbor’s dog. And by drowning out God’s creation, I’m often removing the opportunity to hear from God.

All of the man-made sounds that I’m replacing God’s sounds with are merely imitations. These imitations keep me distracted. And by staying distracted, I don’t have to deal with things in my life, like the emptiness that comes from unmet desires. But counterfeit imitations only suffice for so long. And then I crave the real thing.

Tonight, now that I’m out of the cocoon, I’m looking forward to spending time with a family who is going through a difficult time after the father was injured in a fall last week. And now that I’ve had it with artificial sounds for a while, I’m looking forward to the real sounds of a Texas summer night.

Slaying the Beast

Have you ever found yourself saying, “If only I had . . .” or “If only so & so would . . . ”? I know I’m guilty of this. There always seems to be that one “thing” that I can’t have or at least that I can’t have YET. And I know I’m not the only one. Some of the “if only’s” that I know my friends are facing right now are as follows:

If only I was debt free.
If only depression/alcoholism didn’t run in our family.
If only we could afford a house.
If only a family member wasn’t battling cancer.
If only we could get pregnant.
If only I didn’t have to work and could stay home with my children.
If only my in-laws treated me better.
If only I had a loving spouse.
If only our marriage would be reconciled.
If only a friend or family member would accept Christ as his/her personal Savior.
If only I could get published.
If only I had time to workout.
If only I could afford to take a vacation.
If only I was pain free.

The “if only” that I’ve had at the top of my personal list lately is “If only I could slay ‘the beast,’” which is the nickname that I’ve given to a project that I’ve been working on for several months now. I had hoped to finish it before I went on vacation, but I just couldn’t wrap it up. Then, my first week back from vacation, I decided to work on some smaller projects in order to prove to myself that I could still do my job, which I had started to question. With those smaller projects behind me, I returned to the beast and told myself that it had to be conquered by tonight.

“The beast” started out to be very straight-forward. There was a lot to read, but I didn’t think it would be nearly as bad as it has been. It had gotten to the point that it was unwieldy and seemed so much bigger than my skill set. I just couldn’t seem to tame it. Until now. A draft is done. It isn’t the page-turner that I’d like for it to be, but it is ready for another set of eyes to pierce through it.

Throughout this time, I’ve been postponing my joy in anticipation of finishing this project. And yet, there’s been so much that I could have been joyful about throughout the process. For instance, I feel like I’ve identified some tasks that were taking me longer than necessary and have found some ways to make those tasks more efficient when I take on the next project. I’ve learned more succinct ways of phrasing things. And, I’ve been reminded daily of how I must depend on God for His help and wisdom.

I see this pattern often in my life. I wait for something big--an "if only"--to happen. I’m content for a while, and then a new “if only” makes its way to the forefront of my mind, and I postpone my joy in anticipation of fulfillment of the new “if only” criterion. It’s like a little child who asks for “just one thing” only to return and ask for another “just one thing” a few moments later because the previous toy or whatever is no longer satisfying.

By doing this, I’m not accepting that right where I am is God’s “Plan A” (as my friend calls it) for my life. I am doubting that this is God’s best for me. That He wants me to be right where I am right now to fulfill His purpose. And that I don’t need to rush things.

I wish that by writing this, I’d somehow be immune to going through another “if only” rollercoaster ride. But I know it’s not that simple. Instead, I’ll need to be on the alert for it and remind myself that the One Thing that my soul is really searching for is available right now; I don’t have to wait for it.

“Enough” by Chris Tomlin
All of You is more than enough for all of me

For every thirst and every need

You satisfy me with Your love

And all I have in You is more than enough

You are my supply

My breath of life

And still more awesome than I know

You are my reward worth living for

And still more awesome than I know

All of You is more than enough for all of me

For every thirst and every need

You satisfy me with Your love

And all I have in You is more than enough

You’re my sacrifice

Of greatest price

And still more awesome than I know

You’re the coming King You are everything

And still more awesome than I know

More than all I want

More than all I need

You are more than enough for me

More than all I know

More than all I can say

You are more than enough for me

Burning the Escape Routes

Two weeks ago our pastor preached on Galatians 4:8-20, and I’m still meditating on some of the challenges that he posed to us. He closed his sermon with the story of the Spanish explorer Cortés, who reportedly ordered his soldiers to burn the ships once they arrived in Mexico so that they would not be tempted to return to the country that they came from. Our pastor challenged us to identify what old ways of life we return to time and again to comfort us instead of leaning on God’s grace.

This is a particularly tough issue for me because I have a checklist mentality. I love knowing the rules. And by knowing the rules, I can plan out what needs to be done and can put that on a list. Then, when I complete the task, I get to check it off and can see what I’ve accomplished at the end of the day.

But faith isn’t supposed to be treated like that. It’s not about being good, though out of my love for Christ I should desire to lead a good life. It’s not about praying a certain number of times a day, though I should desire to communicate with my Savior often. It’s not about giving a certain amount of money, though I should want to honor God by giving back a portion of what He has entrusted me with.

Instead, faith is about a relationship with Jesus Christ. And carrying on that relationship, like any relationship, can be difficult at times. There aren’t any particular guidelines to follow, so it may feel a bit awkward or aimless at times. It may be hard to know exactly what He’s saying to me. It may be difficult to discern whether He’s leading me in a certain direction.

And so, I may be tempted to run. Not necessarily away completely, but to run back to my old ways of doing things. And so I get out the checklists, make decisions on my own, and do what makes sense to me in an effort to live by the rules of society and, in essence, create my own yardstick for measuring my Kingdom productiveness, my “goodness,” or my spiritual walk.

It is this escape route that I need to burn. I need to cultivate a heart that doesn’t want to go back to doing things on my own but instead wants to allow God to pour out His grace all over me.

What’s your escape route? Are you willing to strike up your match, burn that route, and cling to grace? As author John Ortberg said, “The decision to grow always involves a choice between risk and comfort.” Are you ready to risk losing your escape route in order to grow? Let me know your thoughts on this.

"People Pleaser"

Ewww. That label has such a negative connotation to me. So much so that I don’t want it attached to me. I try so hard NOT to be that person who, when making a decision, takes into account what everyone else might think. After all, I’m a first-born, one who should not be affected by peer pressure or any sort of pressure for that matter. I was even described as “bull-headed” by a professor in college. But instead of taking that as a compliment, I tried to correct him and told him that he must have me confused with another student. In taking that stance, I was trying to present the front that I am always sweet and soft-spoken and kind. As much as I’d like to be that person, that‘s not who I am all the time. And so I confess that I struggle with being a people pleaser.

The problem with this habit is that it is futile. I cannot predict how every person with whom I come into contact will react. Even those people I know somewhat well often don’t follow a predictable pattern in their reactions. Every person has different opinions, and in order to excel at people pleasing, I would (a) need to know all those opinions, (b) balance them, and (c) still need Divine intervention in order to tell me how to do (b) so that everyone would be happy.

I caught myself thinking about this topic in relation to this blog. A friend and I have been discussing the challenge of trying to write clearly so that all can understand. The way this friend brilliantly summed it up was “[p]art of being a good writer . . . is knowing your audience and realizing that everybody comes from different perspectives[, which is] sometimes hard to account for.” And so when I learned that people from all over the world have stopped by this blog, even if only for a little bit, the enormity of the task of trying to write well enough to please them hit me. I recognize that I am not well-versed in what perspectives those in Germany, Chile, Peru, Brazil, England, Egypt, Spain, Portugal, Costa Rica, Morocco, and other countries come from, and consequently I may not do a very good job of communicating my message to them.

Along the same lines, I feel like I should write something every day in order to keep people happy, and yet sometimes that’s hard to do either for lack of material, energy, or time. I also found myself trying to balance the heavier heart posts at the beginning of this week with some lighter posts toward the end of the week. And that didn’t please ME. Honestly, it felt like filler because bigger, heavier stuff was still on my heart, and I’d have been more true to myself to have either posted about those things or posted about nothing at all.

And so, I quickly realized that I’d gotten off track. That this blog is supposed to be for an audience of One, that One being the Great I AM. At the end of the day, if God is the only person who reads this material, would it please Him? Would it bring a smile to His face? Would it show that I am trying to use any writing talent that He has given me for His glory, instead of my own? Because at the end of the day, the answers to those questions are the only ones that matter.

Disconnected

Have you ever felt disconnected? I’m feeling that way right now on several levels.

For one, I didn’t watch or listen to any news last week while I was on vacation, so I have no idea if there was some major news event of which I should be aware (and I’m not speaking of updates on Paris Hilton's jail status, but rather nationwide and worldwide events). In the grand scheme of things, this disconnectedness doesn't bother me that much because I know that I can get online and search archives of newspapers if I so desire.

For another, my head is feeling physically disconnected from my body. This is a little different from what I talked about in my post entitled “14 Inches” a few weeks ago. Instead, this disconnection is a result of sleep deprivation. My exhausted head and eyes decided to shut down this evening for about three hours, though the rest of my body felt fine. After a good night’s rest, I’m hoping that this disconnectedness will resolve itself.

But the main disconnection I’ve been feeling is a disconnection from God. I don’t mean that I’ve thrown my beliefs aside and become an atheist or an agnostic. I also don’t mean that I’ve tried to connect with God and heard, “The number you’ve reached is no longer a working number. Please check the number and try again.” Quite the contrary. I feel like God has been wanting to connect with me, and I’ve ignored Him. I’ve missed what He wanted to tell me and have no archive I can search for the missed updates. All because I’ve been too busy. Too busy getting ready for vacation. Too busy at work. Too busy on vacation. Too exhausted upon my return.

For some reason, every time I go on vacation I have these grand illusions that I will spend a lot of good time with God and studying His Word. I feel like I’ll have all this “extra” time to pray and just enjoy His character and company. And, inevitably, that’s not the case. Instead, it’s as if I go off and leave God during the day while I’m out having fun, and then crash into bed with a few prayer requests and “thank yous,” and maybe even fall asleep before finishing those. This isn’t anyone’s fault but my own. And so instead of coming back from vacation refreshed and renewed spiritually, I always tend to come back empty.

The good thing is that this emptiness nags at me. It beckons me to get back in step with God. To seek Him out. To reconnect with Him.

Thank You, Lord, that You willingly gave up Your Son for my sake, giving me a direct line of communication with You. Please continue to give me a hunger and a thirst to connect with You and to spend time in Your Word. Refresh and renew me. And help me not to vacation from You. Amen.

Button Pushing

Ever had one of those days when you are embarrassed about the way you’ve responded to a situation? I’m not talking about the slight faux paus, like when I mess up a colloquialism and say something like "take another stab at the apple." I’m talking about responding to a situation in such a negative way that embarrassment sets in because the person on the receiving end would be hard-pressed to know that I am a Christian.

My buttons got pushed the other day by a customer service representative for an electric company. We didn’t get off to the greatest start because I kept having to ask her to repeat everything that she said because I couldn’t make out the words that she was saying or even identify if she was speaking English. Then, when I sat and listened to her, she kept asking if I was still on the line. It quickly turned worse when she couldn’t give me a straight answer to my simple question: How can I guarantee that you all will read my meter each month instead of estimating my usage? She had no answer; she read my account balance again and again and told me when the next meter reading would take place. Obviously, I was getting nowhere with her, so I asked to speak to a manager. She asked to put me on hold. Then she came back not once, not twice, not three times, but four times before she actually put me in the queue to speak to a supervisor. I tried to explain to the supervisor how frustrating my experience with the customer service rep had been, and he said in a monotone voice that my concerns would be passed along to the training division. They will send me a meter reading schedule. That’s it.

What am I leaving out? Possibly the despicable tone that I used. Oh, and the self-righteous attitude I conveyed. And the way I acted afterwards by telling lots of people about my bad experience and naming the company involved.

I had a similar encounter this weekend while purchasing a computer. I was told the computer would be ready at 6:30. I came back about 6:40 and was told the computer would not be ready until 8:00. I asked why they hadn’t called to let me know of the delay and received no answer; it was as if that’s not part of their protocol. So, I came back at 8:00 and was told it would be ready at 8:30. My patience ran out. I had a minor melt down but refrained from climbing over the counter and from crying–both of which seemed very likely in the heat of the moment.

I’m normally a pretty calm person. But for some reason, bad customer service representatives seem to push my buttons, even more than bad drivers and ignorant people. I guess I just feel like they don’t hear me, and by golly I deserve to be heard because I pay their company big bucks.

It sounds pretty gross to write that but that seems to be the way I operate with them. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I should stop assuming that I will receive "customer care," and just realize that a lot of the people in these customer service positions don’t have the training or the desire to see my problem fixed.

Or maybe I should take my concerns up with Someone who really does care.

Thank you, Jesus, that I don’t have to queue up to talk to You. Thank You that You listen, that You speak my language, that You don’t refer me away to others but that You draw me to You.