Have you ever had one of those days during which nothing seemed to go the way you planned it go? Wanted it go? Felt as if it should go? Well, I'm having one of those weeks -- months -- years . . . pick one. I would add decades, but 2011 is a newbie.
Too much time has passed since I posted a blog; e'en while I have felt several "coming on" I have resisted the urge to write. Do you ever get those urges? Your juices start to flow, and whether you write prose or music or poetry, do knitting, needlepoint or embroidery (I suppose folks still do that), work in your garden or paint or do puzzles or whatever, you feel the urge to do whatever serves as your outlet. For me, writing and music are my outlets -- my drugs of choice. While I'm middle-of-the-road mediocre at both, each serve as relief valves, de-stressers, natural highs, spiritual flights to the heavens, media of expressing all wonderful kinds of emotions, and a host of other wholly positive purposes. I've done a lot of music lately, singing with the Houston Ebony Opera Guild, preparing to sing with a group at Houston's Rothko chapel later this week, singing in worship with South Main Baptist Church, my family of God here on this earth, and preparing to sing at our noon Ash Wednesday service tomorrow. Considering recent events, I've decided to resort to writing, purely for therapeutic purposes, since I will do music for preparatory purposes later this evening.
So what's this all about? Gee, I like it when you ask the right question. Let me just tell you a little -- just a little -- about my day.
As a freelancer/contractor -- however the heck you want to label me, I have found it helpful to plan my days, whether with billable work or other work (you know, all that stuff that has to be done). In planning my days I have found certain patterns. Normally if I have an appointment away from my home office, eventually there is at least one other appointment scheduled that day or other things to do while I'm out. Many times I can see that I will be out all day and will plan accordingly, making sure there is an ample supply of bottled water, Melaleuca cinnamon gum, my own concocted trail mix, contingency clothing (you just never know what'll happen), and my laptop and tablet PC (again, you just never know . . .).
Today was supposed to be an out all day day, and I prepared accordingly, making sure that I had everything I needed, even stuff for a 5:30 p.m. meeting. I left home at 8:15 for a 9:00 appointment with a lawyer. After fighting my way to I10 West, jockeying for position to stay on I10 and take an inside-the-loop exit, just as I drove up the exit ramp, my phone rang. It was someone at the lawyer's office telling me he had an emergency and has left. Wow. My next appointment is 2 hours later! First adjustment to the schedule -- not too much of a big deal, just extra miles in the wrong direction (I promise not to discuss rising gas prices), then on to my 11:00 appointment.
Okay, this one is different for me. A headhunter had actually called me (this is simply not done; I am at the top of every headhunter's DO NOT CALL list, and have been since November 1990), raved about my background and credentials, said that she had the perfect position for me, and asked me to visit with her. After a good hour of discussion she announced that I am really an entrepreneur and I should just get my business going again, that I would not be happy with a job. Based on our conversation it was appropriate for me to respond with that passage from Philippians 4:11-12, and from one of my favorite hymns, the line Whatever my lot Thou hast taught me to say it is well with my soul. Our visit ended with my host saying, Can we talk again? I really need to pray about this. And can we pray right now? And pray, she did. My head was reeling; I felt the urge to go home and so put myself on auto-pilot. There went the afternoon.
I have no explanation for the loss of time, but at some point I found myself in the kitchen, preparing a staging area for a smoothie-making session. First slap-stick moment: tipping over a full bottle of apple juice on the kitchen counter -- not good -- followed by six batches of fruit & veggie smoothies yielding 2.25 gallons of nutrition. Good. And just in time to clean up the kitchen and myself and get ready for a 5:30 appointment.
Returning home, I made a salad for dinner and poured a little red wine. My doctor has instructed me to drink red wine. I don't like red wine. I'm a Riesling, Gewurztraminer or White Zinfadel kind of woman, and I rarely imbibe. But, I'm following instructions. And now, here is slap-stick moment number two, with a multiple-choice question:
Q. When you topple over the glass of wine on your desk (and, of course, that is not the place for the glass in the first place), is it better for the spill to land:
a. on top of the desk
b. on the bottom shelf of the desk just a few inches from the floor
c. on the chair mat which the desk sits and on the rug on which the chair mat that sits
d. on the nearly-white Pergo flooring on which the rug lays
e. on the little table that holds four filled pencil/pen cups, inside the cups and on the try on which the cups sit
f. on the number pad section of the ergonomic keyboard which is no longer popular and doggoned hard to find
g. none of the above
h. all of the above.
While the desired answer is g, the factual answer is h.
As I blotted and mopped up the foul-tasting stuff that will definitely leave its mark on several surfaces, there was lots of time to plow through the maybes and what-ifs of the day, the week, last week, last month, this year, last year, or whatever. And this, I told myself, is what's important:
Giving up is not an option. A little spilled juice, wine, or whatever is not a big deal when you look at the big picture. Where did you spill the juice? In your kitchen. In your home. Where did you spill the wine? On your desk. In your pencil cups. On your rug. On your floor. In your office. In your home. Did you have enough juice to make your smoothies? Yes, and there's plenty left. Did you refill your glass with wine? Yes, and there's plenty left, even if I don't like it. Your first appointment didn't happen. The guy did not call you back to reschedule and you're seeking his services. What does that tell you? Find another lawyer. Your 11 o'clock was most unusual. Did she tell you the usual "you're overqualified" animal dung? No. Did she ask to see you again? Yes. So you've cleaned up your mess, finished your dinner -- now what? I'm gonna vent via my blog, go upstairs, and thank my God for the good, bad, ugly and indifference of this day, sing one of my favorite songs -- It is Well With My Soul, practice for worship tomorrow, and ask Him to give me peace and rest tonight, and a new day to try again tomorrow.
I have had days far worse than today -- days filled with abandonment, betrayal, grief, deception, physical impairment and more. Even now I look back over the last few years in wonder and amazement and lots and lots of thanksgiving, realizing that there is no way I could have made it to this day, the 8th of March 2011, without Him. This day was a cakewalk. And there is a bright side. There is an old song that says "There's a bright side somewhere, don't you stop until you find it." I don't agree with that, and I've got news for the brothers who sang that song: The bright side is right here, right now. Even if you don't have your best life now, your bright side is right here, right now. Let the day take care of itself; just seize the moment. Whether the moment is one in which you are at rest, are still and at peace, or are poised, ready to spring into action, make the most of the moment. I lost a couple of hours today. Had they been intentionally devoted to rest, they would not have been lost. I literally cannot account for them.
A moment is a pivotal point in time. THERE IS NO ADJUSTMENT BUREAU! You are your adjustment bureau. It's how you handle this moment that will shape the next. In the legal world in one moment -- suddenly and without warning as they say -- lives are often changed forever. The Bible says the Lord Jesus will come in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye (1 Corinthians 15:52).
So, I leave you first, with this question: How will you spend your next moment? And, secondly, with more words from one of my favorite hymns, It Is Well With My Soul:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
Refrain.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul
-- Horatio G. Spafford*
*Mr. Spafford wrote this shortly after losing his family in a shipwreck.
No comments:
Post a Comment