four-minute friday: am i just lazy?
Go.
My energy and motivation have been record-breakingly low for days now. I blurted out a “What’s wrong with me???“ to a friend, and she asked if it was a rhetorical question. To her, it makes complete sense that I’d be feeling this way. After months (years?) of stress and ongoing fatigue and facing the hardest situations of my life, she thinks my body’s just finally getting to let down a bit.
I get what she’s saying. I just hate feeling… unglued. I don’t know if that’s the best descriptor, but that’s all my fuzzy brain can come up with right now.
I feel like I could sleep for a month. I can’t seem to think coherently. I have zero motivation to do the things on my growing to-do list, even though they’re urgent. I forget everything. I lack even the creativity or fully-processed thoughts to really blog these days. And it frustrates me that I’ve got nothing worth saying.
But this post I could do. I figure it’s only four minutes, and I’m fine with it being all rambley. For just this one post anyway.
I guess what I’m wondering is—How do I know if I should take my body/mind’s cues to disconnect for a while or if I simply need to be more disciplined?
Done.
four-minute friday: gettin’ my groove on
Go.
I love me some music.
I can’t carry a tune and I don’t play any instruments, but dang—I love me some music. It just resonates with me. Sometimes it’s the lyrics (I’m a words girl), or the acoustic guitar, or the perfect harmonies. Sometimes I can’t even put my finger on what “it” is. I just know a song has it.
And I love it.
Every song has a “crank it up” spot—the part I love the most, that’s best heard at top volume. Drive with me once and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
I have absolutely no rhythm, but music just moves me. I find it impossible to stay still. Sometimes a girl’s just gotta get her groove on.
I wish I could actually dance.
But the fact that I can’t doesn’t stop me from dancing in the car. Or in my bedroom. Or, my personal favorite, in the kitchen.
Because seriously—there ain’t nothin‘ like kitchen dancing.
Done.
four-minute friday: goodbyes
Go.
Jon McLaughlin said it best: I hate the sound that goodbyes make.
I’ve talked before about the revolving door of my life. I’ve said a lot of goodbyes in the past eleven-plus years as a missionary. It never gets easier.
I think my heart is more sensitive right now and she feels more deeply the sting in every farewell. The miles of distance seem multiplied. The sorrow that comes in the night feels heavier. Sigh.
I’ve been living in Ohio with my Kitty’s parents for eight months. Terry and Weezer took me in as one of their own daughters and made me feel very loved and cared for at a time I really needed it. Goodbyes were tearful when I left for Atlanta this week, and driving away from my W’ville home felt completely bittersweet in so many ways.
My heart is echoing today with my least favorite sound.
The one that goodbyes make.
Done.
four-minute friday: happenings
Go.
I’ve been back in Africa for ten days. And while my days have been filled with all sorts of hard, there’s also been a lot of really wonderful randomness.
Like staying up late and sleeping in long with my SweetFriend.
We’ve watched dozens of episodes of Ally McBeal, which means we have a whole list of new words that are now popping up in our vocabulary. Like snappish, bygones, disparaged, throes. They’re fun. You should try them sometime.
I’d left behind a stash of American treats that are now pretty much all expired. I don’t know why I even bother checking the date when I’m going to just shrug and eat it anyway. Here’s to stale Wheat Thins, questionable salsa con queso, and surprisingly still-good cookies that expired a year and a half ago.
God’s good to me and only our first few days here were freezing. I learned how to rock my fireplace, which isn’t as easy as simply pushing a button to light the “fake” gas fire. I’m talking wood, newsprint, and matches — Survivor-style. But today was sunny enough that I actually got away with just a short-sleeve shirt for a while. The fact that I’m wearing a fleece over it right now doesn’t take away from the joy of being de-layered earlier.
Sheesh, these four minutes went by too quickly.
All that to say, even though being here is really hard… There is beauty in my ashes.
Done.
four-minute friday: love and loyalty
Go.
She was walking down the hill while I was walking up it. The moment she realized it was me, she burst into tears. We hugged for a long time.
Later, at my kitchen table, we talked. I wanted to know what’s new in her world and how her heart is. We both spoke; we both cried. She asked questions, she listened, she said beautiful things that my heart needed to hear. My friend overwhelmed me with her love and loyalty.
My mind keeps going back to those moments, replaying them over and over. I can’t find words to convey how hard these days have been, and how much I needed those minutes of feeling completely grounded. Of feeling as though I have purpose.
My prayers have been laced with a mixture of emotions and extreme requests. Good thing He knows my heart.
I’m so thankful that you’re talking to Him about me.
Mmmm… That, too, is love and loyalty.
Done.
four-minute friday: demon treadmills
Go.
I’m afraid of treadmills.
No, really. I am.
I’ve been hanging out with Gym for several months now. I’ve run on the track, used the cross trainer, lifted weights, even taken Zumba classes. But I haven’t even touched one of the treadmills. I barely even glance in their general direction. They’re scary.
Stop sneering. It’s a completely rational fear.
Because I know what can happen on a treadmill.
I’ve laughed at seen enough videos to know that in a fight against a treadmill, I would surely lose. Every time.
Don’t know what I’m talking about? Then you should watch these clips and laugh learn your lesson. They’re all short videos, but if you’re in a real hurry at least watch this one. These five seconds could spare you serious bodily harm down the road.
[youtube]dqQGT8bZt5I[/youtube]
Treadmills are of the devil.
Just like moths.
Done.
four-minute friday: business meeting
Go.
A-hem. Can I have your attention please? It’s time for some Gritty business.
This meeting is officially called to order. All those present, say “Aye!”
- The talk to me page is finally up and running. That’s where you can go if you want to send me an email. But even better, you can also record and send me a video message! How fun is that?! So if you’re feeling creative or just want to say hey, go ‘head and send me some video mail.
- There’s also a new page called the lounge. It’s a video chat room—so all of you with webcams can meet up and talk to each other. I need you guys to check it out and let me know how it works. Maybe we need to organize an inaugural Grit chat!?!
- We’re getting close to 20,000 comments. We celebrated the 10,000th with a giveaway—Brandy won herself some brownies—and I’m thinking we need to do something like that again. The big question is: what should the prize be?! Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller?
Meeting adjourned.
Done.
four-minute friday: wonderbread
Go.
I need to be honest. After being in Seattle for a couple weeks, I’m finding it a little more challenging to be back in Wonderbread, Ohio. (No offense to any of my midwesterly readers!) There are lots of reasons it’s hard to be here right now: I miss the city. I crave diversity. It’s lonely.
Having friends nearby all day every day for two weeks straight was just what I needed. And now I’m back to being far from those my heart holds close. Hmph.
I’m driving to Cleveland today, though, and I’m already smiling just thinking of how fill-upping it will be. And not just because there’s potential for some slightly-more-urbanesque experiences than I get in my corner of the state. But because I’ll have a weekend with my heart’s friend. Which means there’s bound to be lots of laughter, long talks, stretches of comfortable silence, late nights, and (of course) some Flight of the Conchords.
And I get to crank up the jams on my road trip there and back. Awwwwww yeah…
Done.
Go ahead and four-minute about your weekend plans. Or, well, anything really.
crawling back onto the altar
“To live a life of prayer, of sacrifice, of surrender to God.”
Twelve years ago I penned those words as my life mission statement. I wanted to be intentional about making my life count for something greater than me. I wanted to be deliberate about leveraging my life for His glory. And everything I could see myself doing boiled down to that simple statement.
I said simple, not easy. ‘Cause it’s been anything but easy.
Those words have been ringing in my ears this past week. Prayer, sacrifice, surrender to God. Do I still mean it?
I want to say I’m willing, even when I don’t know what He’s asking me to do. I want to follow Him even when I don’t know which way He wants me to go. I want to serve Him even when it means giving up my own notions of how I can best do that. I want to honor and glorify Him with every breath, every word, every step.
The only problem with being a living sacrifice is my tendency to crawl off the altar. When I can’t see what’s next, when the flames of uncertainty seem too much for me to bear, sometimes I climb off. I choose to follow fear instead of faith. I long for the certainties of Egypt over the uncertainties of freedom.
But I’m done. Today I’m climbing back on the altar.
The Lord Himself goes before me and will be with me. Among all the unknowns and uncertainty, He is already there. He knows. He is certain. So if I remain in Him, I can have confidence and peace even when facing more uncertainties than ever before in my life.
As I’ve ruminated on it and wrestled through it, I know this much is true: I still want each moment of my life to be one of prayer, of sacrifice, of surrender to God.
Use me however You want, God. However You want.
four-minute friday: bread butts
Go.
I can’t stand banana butts. Or hot dog butts. And I really don’t like bread butts.
But I used to feel like I needed to be a bread butt martyr. I’d eat them, even though I hate them. Simply so someone else didn’t need to. I’m realizing that I do that with a lot of things. I’ll choose what I don’t like if I feel that decision will be better for others in some way.
But I had an epiphany about the butts: Some sacrifices just don’t need to be made.
Bread butts simply do not need to be eaten. By anyone. So I stopped taking one for the team and started giving the butts to the birds.
Everybody wins.
Done.
Your turn! Leave a four-minute comment about bread butts…
