Tomorrow I’ll be reviewing Marilyn Griffith’s “Tangerine.” Sweet with a slight bite. Easy to peel, digest, etc. etc.
Today I’m going to confess a bad attitude. Again!
What the who, is there a nasty attitude virus going around? If so I keep catching it.
I may have a cure, though. No, not the one where I throw the sheets over my head and refuse to get out of bed, though that sounds like it might do the trick especially if I could talk a family member into SILENTLY delivering French Press and chocolates.
But since that’s as likely to happen as me winning the lottery without purchasing a ticket I’ll just share my deeper thoughts.
This virus has been brewing for awhile. It flared on Sunday.
Rob and I discussed it on the way home from church. I’m not sure which of us is the carrier and which caught it, but we both spent a large chunk of worship time focused on other PEOPLE.
Ah-ha! The main symptom of said virus.
While focused on other people I was unable to really worship the Creator of the world, the King of kings and Lord of lords because, while He had my whole heart, my mind was distracted. I say He had my whole heart because I wasn’t watching the others in the service to mock them or judge them. My intentions were good, concern that they were unable to worship because they struggle with the type of songs that we were singing.
What? Yeah. That’s what I thought once I realized what I was doing. Then I put on another sour attitude because their struggle put me in a bad place. Grumble, grumble.
I need to readjust my view.
So here I go. Lord, people are going to disappoint me and hurt me and frustrate the life out of me if my focus is there, on them. Help me to hear Your voice, keep my eyes on Your path and my feet lined up with my eyes. Do Your will in my life. And here they are, (insert name(s)) now You take care of them. I quit.
Ahhh, I feel better. I think I might crank up the stereo and sing on the way home.
See you tomorrow.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.