Saturday, March 29, 2014

Game Plans

I would swallow my pride, I would choke on the rinds
But the lack thereof would leave me empty inside
Swallow my doubt turn it inside out
Find nothin' but faith in nothin'
Want to put my tender, heart in a blender
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion 
Rendezvous then I'm through with you 

My mind is spinning. The dreaded words no one ever wants to hear from their spouse, I got laid off, were said to me last Tuesday. The same day my daughter won an amazing fellowship for her graduate degree.

God giveth and God taketh away.

So I say ok, calm down, rest in Jesus. Rest in God. We will weather this storm. But this song from Eve 6 (Inside Out) comes into my head...over and over. Don't even know why. 

Friends, family, coworkers are so nice, sympathetic, they tell me; don't worry Maria, he'll find something quickly, he's a hard worker, he's young (my husband is only 42...which is young compared to me...53)...but still why do I hear:

I burn, burn like a wicker cabinet, chalk white and oh so frail
I see our time has gotten stale
The tick tock of the clock is painful
All sane and logical, I want to tear it off the wall
I hear words and clips and phrases
I think sick like ginger ale
My stomach turns and I exhale

Feeling immobilized. Just sit and think and smoke cigarettes. And I am not a smoker. Or I wasn't.  

Game plans spinning. Panic sets in. Up my meds. Oh yeah, get some meds. Stop smoking. Cut cable. Do an inventory on everything we don't really need. Ok, so that was done in about 10 minutes. Now what?

Network, resume, unemployment, severance, get husband to do those house projects he never seemed to have time for...... Game plans.

Change cell phone plan. Done. Turn off lights in empty rooms. Done. Don't buy any more cookie butter. Ummmmm. Ok. Done. Game plans.

Keep planning daughter's wedding. Don't panic. Pray. Ok, done. 

Then why does that song keep spinning in my head?

Game plans. 

Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Breakfast Club (otherwise known as my preaching class)

My love letter to my preaching workshop.

Dear Mr. Tindall, 

We have accepted the fact that we had to sacrifice every Saturday morning for 10 weeks for your preaching workshop. We don't think you're crazy for making us preach in 2 minutes or less about the Bible, or using the word pericope, or knowing literary style, historical facts, or the use of great storytelling all while keeping Jesus the focus and using ourselves as the vessel, interjecting our own lives without overshadowing the message. You saw us how God sees us, in the simplest terms, in the most amazing definitions. 

But what we found out, is that each of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basketcase, a sweet loving princess, a devoted mom, a revered grandfather, a funny klutz, and yeah maybe even a criminal. 

All loved by God. 

Thanks for answering our questions.

Sincerely yours, 

The Breakfast Club.

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