Musings

I stood at my stove eating sea salted potato chips, the fat kind, and tearing pieces of cold chicken from the bone, one chip at a time in my left hand and one tear of chicken breast with my left hand. I kept eating, just kept eating; thinking "I should stop eating these chips, the salt's not good for me, it makes me blow fish puffy". But I kept eating; crunching loudly, my ears hurt. Within this me swirl, I recognized the sadness wasn't going away. I stopped eating.

There's lots going on within me, around me, and food is my hiding place (except for lima beans, they look like little fetuses). I keep thinking it will all get better--soon. It doesn't get better and I'm not going to be beamed up to the star ship Enterprise (my view of biblical rapture) in the near future. Life doesn't get better when it hurts. Food comes as close to a magic wand and no magic wand poofs the bad out of existence. Ans so I fight the desire to eat and eat and eat some more.

Re-engaged

     Adam, a friend of mine, stood above the table looking intently at a script of mine that I've heavily revised in pencil. Meaning, he was attempting to decipher mucho handwritten gobbledygook while  I looked on hopefully. We hadn't looked at the script since the last time we shot at my Grandma's where Adam's car was vandalized and burglarized.
     Right before he picked up the pieces of paper, as he tried to convince me to add a few shots here and there for continuity sake, he took a deep breath and said, "Just trying to re-engage."
     The word struck me. My life has been full of re-engaging lately.
     Traumatic events have forced me to re-engage with my extended family even when I want to run. Like Jonah, anywhere but Ninevah, Lord,  especially when your revered Grandma is the Queen.
     Chris and I are re-examining our hearts about our adventure on the bus, with home schooling and our current job situations. I have re-written our budget, re-taken my head shots and re-vamped my resume. I am re-reading the Bible with my children and re-learning basic Spanish.
     I am working with a group of teens every Monday night, re-learning to be a facilitator and not a dictator.
     But the thing I most want to re-do is ignite. To not just get a glimpse of the vision, but to be consumed by it. I like being consumed. My major deadly sin is gluttony. If God doesn't consume me, something or someone will. I must remain ever watchful, because when I am consumed without God involved, I am careless and messy and fruitless.
    I don't want to go there again.
    To consume means to use up while consummation means to be complete. I am being used up and completed at the same time. There is no divine countdown for some sublime vision, I know. I see a piece of the vision every day. 
    This is what Jesus looks like in me today. I wonder what he will look like in me tomorrow?  Okay, so I didn't do such a hot job living out Jesus today. God's mercies are new everyday. We'll start again tomorrow. 
     Right now,  the vision comes mostly as a still small voice. 
     Don't give up. Be diligent. Don't give up. Be diligent. Don't give up.
     This means so many things on a zillion different levels, but it's enough of a vision to keep me going even though I don't feel the consuming fire to do so. Good thing I'm stubborn. 
     Leave it to God to use my flaws to get me where he wants me. Re-engaged and kindled.