How to fall asleep fast.

I’ve never been good about falling asleep. Even as a child, I remember playing my favorite cassette tape–”Antshillvania” until I dozed off into a bliss of rainbows and unicorn dreams.

I wasn’t a belligerent child by not going to bed easily—at least, not at that moment. The trouble has always been my racing mind-pinging from one subject to the next, one song to the next, one kitty cat prayer to the next. In today’s world I might have been diagnosed as ADHD.

My mother correctly diagnosed me, however, as having a wildly creative mind.

Last night, while Biceps was out saving the city, my mind wouldn’t shut off. Here’s a typical 30 second snippet from my brain:

“Did I hand out enough flyers on that home?”
“Did I call Cynthia back?”
“What did I eat for lunch?”
“Who wrote, ‘Hippy Hippy Shake?”
“Would Netflix update their past season?”
“I wonder who Des chose to be her one and only (for the next two months)?”
“What will our WOD be in Crossfit tomorrow?”
“Did I remember to harvest the okra today?”

And so on…I needed something to settle me down.

I grabbed my Bible, and remembering what I just heard that morning on the radio, flipped open to Psalms 4.

Psalm 4:7 & 8-“You brought me more happiness than a rich harvest of grain and grapes. I can lie down and sleep soundly, because you, Lord, will keep me safe.”

What else does a girl need in order to fall asleep?

Pressing on to things that are ahead.

Life can be difficult. It can stink. It can be trying and fun and devastating and everything in between. But, each time that I’ve come to a fork in the road that I wasn’t excited about-the “opportunity” for change-I’ve realized that it’s hard to leave something behind that’s familiar.

With this new-ish career that I’m pursuing, many creative things in my life have had to come to a halt. I no longer have time to sew shirts, build picnic tables or can beans. The closest that I’m coming to creativity is tying balloons on the “for sale” signs outside of a home I’ve listed.

Wee.

 

I’ve got to be honest-it’s been a real struggle for me. I really hate the word “busy” and I hate being too busy to enjoy life. I don’t mind working hard-if you know anything about me, it’s that I love to work hard.

However, the path that is now before me is a new and scary one. An unfamiliar one. It’s full of twists and turns and hills and valleys. I can’t seem to keep my thoughts straight or get a good night of sleep.

But, with each twist and turn comes the opportunity to rely more on God and less on myself. I’ve had to completely take captive my thoughts, I’ve had to demand of myself to be positive and I’ve had to find ways to continue enjoying life-even if it’s only the five solitary moments I get between phone calls.

And, I’ve clung to this scripture:

“But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. [ Following Paul’s Example ] All of us, then, who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you.”
Philippians 3:12-16

Crossfit and Bibles

The alarm rang this morning at 4:15am. I hate that blasted thing. I hate alarms and all that they stand for. I want an alarm that makes me coffee and kisses me softly on the cheek while laying a kitten on my lap. Is that too much to ask for?

 

By 6:30am this morning, I had dropped Biceps off, ran 2 miles, went to Crossfit and started my short drive home on the deserted streets. (Save for the few headed towards the donut shop. Naughty, naughty.)

I have been feeling a bit on the downer side lately-which is totally not me. I’m the one that bounces into Crossfit at 5:30am humming a tune and annoying the other participants, I’m sure. Today, I just slipped in the back and got to work, not making eye contact.

And while on round 3 of my last movement of 30 friggin’ box jumps, and as my trainer was yelling at me, I started thinking. When was the last time I even talked to God about how I was feeling? Sure, I’ve been reading His Word, but have I been humble enough to admit to myself, let alone HIM, that I was bummed out and really didn’t know why? It sounded so….girly.

And girly doesn’t come naturally for me. Obviously. (*ps-this is a fake picture. There was some concern the last time I posted this.)

Weird, yes. But girly? Not so much.

So, I came home, brewed some coffee, grabbed my Bible and snuggled up to my dewey garden-which is where I feel the closest to God. And I told Him how I felt and asked Him to give me clarity.

Somewhere between I Peter 1:6 and 7, I realized that these trials are temporary. And I have a hope with Him. And I should quit whining, because really, who wants to see someone crying at Crossfit?

No one, that’s who.

So, just in case you are going through something right now, or you may be a little or a lot bummed out, here’s the scripture that pulled me out of the depths of despair.

“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith-of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” I Peter 1:6 & 7

New Garden, Same old Sinful Weeds

Back in January, I planned my garden to the “t”. I plotted out the spacing, ordered the seeds, tilled the earth, and removed all the weeds in preparation for squash, broccoli, peppers, tomatoes and-oh-so-much-more.

Although the bunnies decimated the broccoli and a couple of tomato plants, things seemed to be right on track. The rain came, the seedlings grew and soon, I had lettuce on my table. All of the work, the planning, and the plotting brought about the fruits of my labor.

But, like a bad habit-the weeds returned. (You can see them in the upper left hand corner.) Each year, I look for solutions to stop these invasive, icky weeds. Biceps and I will spend hours pulling them up by the roots, and a few weeks later-we are right back where we started. There’s just no easy, non-toxic way to organically rid my garden of weeds once and for all.

It got me thinking about my own heart and my own weeds. I carefully pull up the weeds (sin) by the roots in my own life and for a few weeks, my garden (my life) is free from my bad habits. I even have a few victories-much like my lettuce, there is a harvest for my labor. I see myself respond to a situation with a godly attitude, I am more patient, I am kind when I don’t feel like it. I am so proud of myself. (ironic, isn’t it?).

But then, I’m in Wal-mart. (Almost enough said there.)

And that lady with the four screaming kids stops in the middle of the gosh darn aisle and takes FOREVER picking out a bar-b-que sauce. And I say all sorts of things to her in my head-as I smile, move her cart out of my way, and in total, undeniable frustration, power-walk towards the vinegar.

I don’t think about the fact that she’s probably worn out and taking forever looking for bar-b-que sauce because her mind is overly distracted by her four screaming kids. And that a kind word from me would have possibly made her day-rather than my obviously fake smile. But, I don’t care about that. She just cost me 20 seconds in that aisle. What’s next?! A minute lost trying to get around her again in the spice aisle? Why yes, as a matter of fact.

By the time I leave Wal-mart, I’ve encountered her exactly four times. And each time, my blood pressure rises as I increasingly reach the point where I want to yell at her, “DON’T YOU REALIZE THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE IN THIS STORE TRYING TO SHOP?!!!!”. But, I don’t. I smile that fake smile again, move around her and mumble something under my breath her youngest hears but doesn’t understand-thank goodness I speak German when needed.

Icky, gross weeds. They’re still there in my life.

As I’m loading my groceries into my sweet ride, I see her barely making it through the automatic doors with all four kids intact. She hangs her head, sighs and heads through the obstacle course towards her car. I smile once again as she passes me and she sees the church sticker on my car. She tells me we go to the same church and that she gave her life to Christ at that church.

Ouch. Double ouch. Triple, icky weeds ouch.

I may have a brand new garden, but those icky weeds need to be consistently pulled. There’s no easy way to do it. Each time, there are less and less weeds-but they’re never fully gone. They are still there, trying to choke out the harvest. My job is to continue to pull them up, one by one, until my Maker completely removes them from my life and I am with Him.

Praise the Lord my garden in heaven is going to be awesome and weed-free.