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Monday Mess

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

My head is everywhere this morning.   I can’t quite hold a single thought captive.  I imagine this is what it is like to have ADHD — rapid fire ideas that bear no resemblance to one another.  I have been up for almost two hours and have not yet had one shred of continuity.

In fact, during my Bible study, I got up to order a replacement tray for the microwave — ours spontaneously broke in two over the weekend.  I got back to my study for a moment then remembered that I needed to message my doctor.  Got up to do that, then sat back down to 2 Thessalonians only to realize that my feet were cold and I probably needed socks.  While I was up getting socks, I checked and responded to a couple of emails.

If you give a mouse a cookie…

I think the problem is that my routine is slightly altered today.  You know how it is when you change one thing.  You decide to buy your coffee on the road instead of brewing a pot at home.  This means that you don’t go into the kitchen before your shower, so you don’t see your medicine sitting on the countertop.   Halfway through your makeup routine, you remember that you haven’t taken your medicine, so you stop applying your mascara and go to the kitchen.  While you are in the kitchen, you grab a snack to take to work, walk to the front room to find your purse, and before you know it, you’re sitting in your car in your slip with mascara on one eye.

So, I got out of bed, fed the dog, brewed some tea, mixed my smoothie, then broke my routine and wrote an email to my former colleagues.  That was the beginning of mayhem.  A few people responded which sent me down nostalgia lane, but the thought of an interview later today got me considering my wardrobe.  I noticed a bill I have to attend to today, and remembered I also want to spend an hour or two on an editing project.  I started and interrupted and restarted and interrupted and restarted and finally finished my Bible study and lit the candle on my desk.  I shuffled some papers around and then had to go to the bathroom.

Do you see what I mean?

So now, instead of sitting at my desk to blog, I am on the futon, which means I can’t really see out the window.  Chester, who usually sits under my desk warming my feet, keeps looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.  But that would imply that I knew where it was to begin with!!

It’s going to be an interesting day.  I think I’d better make a checklist:

  • finish blog
  • attend to previously mentioned bill
  • work on editing project
  • blow out candle
  • shower
  • dress for interview
  • swing by library
  • go to interview
  • drive to gym
  • workout
  • drive home
  • eat
  • sleep

With this kind of start to the day, I think I better just take a few minutes and pray — that God would put things in the proper order, that He would direct my steps, that He would focus me when I get behind the steering wheel today, and that He would allow me to attend to the people who cross my path.  I’m kind of a mess today; thankfully, He is not.  He knows the craziness in my head; He will order the details of my day.

Phew!

Isaiah 26:3

You keep [her] in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you,

because [she] trusts in you.

Daylight Savings Time

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Daylight Savings Time.  Ahhhh, gotta love it.

I remember when the kids were little, daylight savings time just made me angry.  My kids woke up at the same time as every other day; they didn’t get the memo.  They always woke up around 6:00am, so DST just meant 5:00am.  I once packed all the little ones in the car first thing in the morning, drove to Target, and bought alarm clocks.  These clocks were not to wake them up in the morning.  No, these clocks were to be set at 6:30am — the time when they were allowed to get out of bed.  Until the alarm went off, they were to stay put.

We stayed up a little later last night watching the final moments of a football game, so, in the absence of little ones, we enjoyed the luxury of sleeping that extra hour this morning.  I knew we had pushed it a little too far when I felt a wet nose pressing into my face.  Oh, yeah, we still have Chester.  He hung in there like a champ, but his bladder would hold no longer!

I’ve noticed that in Michigan darkness lasts a little longer than it does in Missouri.  The sun comes up a little later and goes down a little earlier.  I am sure someone could explain the science of this to me, but really I just see it as an invitation to sleep longer.  If the good Lord wanted me out of bed, he would turn on the lights, right?

Now, don’t worry.  I don’t actually sleep the whole time it is dark outside.  Even I can’t sleep that long! And what do we need to save the daylight for anyway?  Doesn’t everyone have electricity?

When I finally crawled out of bed this morning, I was greeted by a beautiful fall day.  It’s chilly, to be sure, but absolutely beautiful. The daylight, knowing that it has just been rescued, is beaming down casting shadows on our lawn.  The leaves are mostly off the trees, so from my perch here in the office, I can actually see the river, not just imagine it.  A pudgy little squirrel is outside my window eating every last acorn he can find. He’s taking advantage of the daylight.  Maybe he knows what is coming.

But I don’t want to talk about that.  Nope.  I am going to blissfully enjoy the beautiful fall day! I am full on that extra hour of sleep and headed out to an hour or more of worship.

Ahh….gotta love Daylight Savings Time.

Psalm 118:24

This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Worry?

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

So for the past couple of days I have been a little worried.  We had some expenses surface that were unexpected and the finances started to look, to me, a bit scary.  I may have uttered the words, “if I just got a full-time job, this would not be a big deal.”  As if in response to those words, I was plunked down on the couch with the most demanding aches I have had in quite a while.  I literally had to rest.

A still small voice was uttering:  Hey, little girl, I’ve got this.  You are not in charge.  I think I can handle your finances.  

Wait, what?  I don’t think I heard that.  Let me worry and grump around the house for a couple of days.  And I did.

Then, I opened my Bible study this morning.  I have to be honest and tell you that I haven’t done my regular Bible study in three days.  You see, our group got a little behind in our study, so we have altered our pace.  It is no longer necessary for me to do my homework every day.  So, I let it sit for a few days.  Should I make it very clear here that my few days of worrying coincide with my few days of not doing my regular Bible study?

I know, I know, it is not a magical formula.  But we are what we eat, you know?  If I take in the Word of God, it tends to center me on truth.  If I fail to take in the Word of God, the other ‘stuff’ in life tends to overwhelm me, crowding out the truth.  I start to feel like I have to carry all my problems on my own.

Anyway, I opened my Bible study this morning.  The whole point of the study was prayer — taking concerns to our Dad because He delights in giving us all good things.

More than usual, the study required that I look up verse after verse to make the point.  Luke 11:13 — the heavenly Father gives things to His children, Ephesians 1:3 — He has already blessed us with every spiritual blessing, 2 Peter 1:3 — His power has granted to us all things, and 2 Corinthians 9:8 — God is able to do this.  Now, I know this Bible study was published in 2014, but it wasn’t published this morning.  Yet God assembled this study to be just what I needed to see this morning. Because He knew where I would be in my thoughts this morning.  Because He knit me together in my mother’s womb.  And He knew about the expenses that, to us, were unexpected.  So, He probably has a plan for how they are going to work out.

Yup.  Schooled again.

Was it just yesterday that I wrote about the three time periods — now, a little while, and when Jesus is revealed?  Wasn’t I talking about how I was going to live my life for the little while I have until Jesus is revealed?  Do I want to spend it worrying?  Or do I want to climb up onto my Dad’s lap, tell Him the situation, and let Him reassure me: Hey, little girl, I’ve got this.  You are not in charge.  I think I can handle your finances.  

Yeah, that one.

Do not be afraid, little flock, because your Father delights to give you the kingdom.

Luke 12:32

A lesson in perspective

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

When I teach the elements of literature, I always have to spend considerable time discussing perspective or ‘point of view’.  The way a story is told changes dramatically depending on who is doing the telling.

For instance, slavery, from the point of view of a wealthy southern land owner, was a pretty genius idea.  Free labor that reproduces itself.  Brilliant.

However, from the point of view of the actual human being who was being held against her will, in a barely habitable shack, subjected to rape, physical abuse, and near starvation, it was not such a great idea.

Similarly, perspective is impacted by how close you are standing to the story.

Recently Bill O’Reilly, in an interview with Jon Stewart, argued that there is ‘no white privilege’ because “there is no more slavery, there is no Jim Crow..” From his point of view, “If you work hard, if you get educated, if you are an honest person, you can make it in America.”  It worked for him. 

However, from the point of view of young black man being educated in an inner city school in America, surrounded by poverty and the lack of resources,  it may not seem so simple.  The system doesn’t always work where he’s living.

But this post isn’t really supposed to be about slavery or about white privilege.  It’s about perspective. I recently got some.

I was sitting next to my friend last Saturday after the memorial service for his wife of forty years who had just finished her eight-year battle with breast cancer.  He said to me, “So, what’s this health issue you are dealing with?”  Perspective.  I was frankly a little embarrassed.  Not because he implied that my illness was ‘less than’ breast cancer.  Not in the least.  He was genuinely concerned about me.  However, my internal dialogue went something like this.  Wow.  He has just watched his wife go through round after round of chemo, several surgeries and hospitalizations, not a few brushes with death, and then the final blow.  And I am complaining about joint pain and fatigue.  Perspective.

This past Wednesday I, of course, went to Bible study.  The teacher was explaining that in the Bible there are three time periods mentioned — now, a little while, and when Jesus is revealed.  My internal dialogue went something like this. Right now I’ve got it pretty good.  Yes, I feel kinda crappy most of the time, but I am not really limited from living my life.  And seriously, it’s only going to be a little while until Jesus is revealed.  How do I want to spend that ‘little while’? Perspective.

Now, let me be clear.  I am still living with some kind of health issue.  It, as I told my friend, “slows me down.”  However, as I have explored over and over again in this blog, having been “slowed down” has been a huge blessing for me.  Slow, it turns out, is a pretty good speed for me.

From inside this body, I would say that my life has changed.  In some ways it is less comfortable, but in some ways, it is much more healthy than it has ever been.

From outside this body, I would say that I’ve got a pretty amazing life. I am living with a husband who loves me and supports this grace period.  I live minutes from two very competent medical centers.  I have access to great foods and a phenomenal exercise facility. I have so many friends! I have healthy children and a grandbaby on the way.  And I get to spend a lot of time in my pajamas!

I do love pajamas.

Sometimes we need to move around a little bit, stand in a different spot, and get a healthy dose of perspective.

Romans 8:18

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing

with the glory that is to be revealed in us.

And so it begins…

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Well, kids, when it rains it pours.

This Sunday afternoon I am meeting with a graduate student who is looking for someone to help him organize his Master’s thesis — 120 single-spaced pages on academic dishonesty.

On Monday I have an interview to be a part-time English paraprofessional at a charter school for non-traditional students.

Tuesday is my big gig as an election agent.

Whew!  I think my days of unemployment may be coming to an end!

Now, I am not saying I am going to be offered either of the positions I am being interviewed for.  Nor am I suggesting that I will certainly take either/both positions if they are offered.  However, it is nice to know that this chronic job hunter can still get an interview!

Don’t worry, I am aware that Sunday is November 2.  I have not forgotten that I have been committed from the beginning to be still until January 1, or, technically, January 5.  I don’t consider one night as an election agent to be ’employment’.  Do you? How about several hours reading a thesis?  Is that really work?  I mean, yes, I would get paid.  Yes, I would be using my expertise.  But, I am pretty sure I could do it in my pajamas, on my couch, with or without an ice pack applied to whatever ache I may have at the moment.

Now being an English parapro?  That would count as an official job — regular hours, real humans counting on me, actual skills being utilized.  I did mention on my application that I am available for work starting January 5.  I still got a call.  I still have an interview.  So, who knows?

I consider the position I am in to be one of luxury.  I am not desperate for a job.  We can survive if I don’t work at all.  We will surely have to cut corners and go without a few ‘wants’, but certainly all of our ‘needs’ will be met.  So, I can be relaxed in these interviews, be myself, hear what they have to say, and honestly communicate whether I feel I am capable of handling the task at hand.  Yes, pure luxury.

I have been on the other side.  I have been desperate for work before.  I have had to step into situations where I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into.  I have had to have on-the-job training.  And truly, this will likely happen again, to some extent, no matter what position I eventually land in.  But I have crossed enough bridges, and weathered enough storms to know that, no matter what, I’ll be fine.

Years ago at my confirmation, my pastor placed his hands on me and proclaimed my confirmation verse, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” Joshua 1:9.  And, you know, it has proven true.  He was with me when I worked in a group home for emotionally impaired girls.  He went with me to my first classroom of learning disabled students.  He has led me through all these years of parenting.  He has gone before me and beside me through challenges, victories, sadnesses, and joys. Even when I thought I was fighting all my battles on my own.  He was there.

So, bring on the interviews.  We’ll be there together.  Therefore,  I will be strong and courageous.

A little more on writing

~ Kristin ~ 4 Comments

I attended a poetry reading by Li Young-Lee last night.  He read three poems he said he is ‘working on’.  In fact, after the first, he said, “I need to change one word in that one.  Next time.”  I smiled and thought to myself, “No writing is finished, merely abandoned.”

I can’t remember who said that to me.  And maybe they didn’t even say it to me.  But it has stuck with me.  In fact, I said that phrase to many students who wanted their writing to be ‘just perfect’ before handing it in.  I don’t think it’s possible for writing to be ‘perfect’.  Revision is always possible.  We can always ‘change one word’ or one phrase.  We can always have a better introduction, a better conclusion.  We can always find a way to say something differently or better.

Also last night, a young writer sent me an essay she just received back from her teacher.  I had ‘helped’ her with her process and she had received a 69/100.  Ouch.  The marks all over her paper were valid.  Of course there is room for improvement.  She is revising at this moment.

Revision.  I do love revision.  But it’s so hard!  In order to revise we sometimes have to delete our creation!  We have to cut out words that were so difficult to find in the first place. We have to make decisions about which of our thoughts get to stay and which have to go.  It takes time.  And thought.  It’s agonizing.

And ultimately, we have to decide that enough is enough.  We have labored so long on one piece, revised ad nauseum, and we can’t stand to work on it any more.  So, we ‘abandon’ it.  We submit it ‘as is’.  It’s ‘good enough’.  We did all that we could do.

We are not perfect.  We cannot produce perfect work.  It’s impossible.

Yet in our imperfection, we are not abandoned.

Do you remember the t-shirts from back in the day that said, “Be patient with me, God is not finished with me yet”? Cheesy, yes, but true.  We are works in progress.  The Creator continues to make revisions, shaping and molding us.  He can visualize the finished product, and guys, we will eventually arrive there!

We will not be abandoned.  The Creator does not tire of working with us. He doesn’t wad us up and toss us in the general direction of the trash can.

Nope.

He cradles us in the palm of His hand, gently caressing and reshaping us.  He conforms us to His image.  And one day….

He who began a good work in you 

will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

Phillipians 1:6

We, my friends, will not be abandoned.  We will be completed.

Write away

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

A friend asked me yesterday if I know what I am going to write before I sit down at my laptop.  Not usually.  I sit down and think “Well, what’s it going to be today?”  Sometimes I just start typing.  Sometimes I look at a blank screen for a very long time.  Sometimes I get two or three paragraphs in, delete the whole thing, lather, rinse, repeat.

On rare very blessed days, I wake up with an idea in my mind, sometimes in the middle of the night, and I can’t get to the keyboard fast enough.  I have a start, I don’t know where it will take me, but I know for sure that I have the topic right. In those moments, I feel like I am being instructed by the Teacher himself, as though He is pushing the words through my fingertips onto the screen, because He knows that is where I am most likely to pay close attention to them.

On other days, I get up, drink my tea, eat my oatmeal, skim Facebook, read my emails, do my Bible study, then come to my computer with a general idea of where I am headed. This type of writing is usually an extension of my Bible study, allowing my brain to explore out what I just studied, making it personal.

Sometimes my writing sorts out what is happening in my life — the death of a friend, a change in medication, a potential job.  This writing usually reveals the feelings that I typically keep below the surface…the ones that are pressing to be examined…the ones that I really need to process in order to move forward.

And today, I am writing about my writing.  Writing allows my soul to breathe.  I learned that when I was very young, back in the days of pink diaries that locked with a little golden key.  I treasured the time I could lie on my bed and write in my diary.  I poured my little heart out into those cheesy little books.  Somewhere along the way I discovered poetry and dabbled a little in finding just the right combination of words to cryptically express my innermost emotions.  Later, poetry gave way to song lyrics, devotions, and lesson plans.

My students often asked me if I would ever write a novel.  “No,” I would say.  “I don’t really know how to write what’s not true.”  And that’s a fact.  The only type of writing I really know how to do is this — putting the ordinary stuff of life on the page in order to make sense of it.

Some people paint.  Others dance.  Some run marathons.  Others garden.  We each have to find the language of our heart and use it to say what’s inside of us.  We know when we’ve found it because we can’t help but run to it, and getting there, we see that others too, miraculously, are blessed.

It’s a mystery, isn’t it?  Someone could be blessed by my fumblings? Your fumblings? But they are!  So, I’ll continue to fumble along.

I Corinthians 12:4

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit…

My life as a lab rat

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

Did you ever feel like a lab rat?

Let’s think about lab rats for a moment.  They stay in cages and are given a variety of ‘treatments’ and then are ‘observed’.  They really don’t do anything else.

My nephew is a physician.  During medical school, he told us about a summer during which he daily practiced sutures on a lab rat.  Each day he would take the rat out of the cage, anesthetize it, slice it open, suture it up, then put it back in its cage.  Poor rat.

Ok, I don’t really feel like a lab rat, but I do share some characteristics with one.  You already know that I love my little house by the river, so I won’t compare it to a cage.  After all, I have a lovely view, I can come and go as I please, I make my own food, and I have the steady companionship of my husband and my dog.  However,  even though I am not currently ‘caged’, I am an object of experimentation.

You may recall that my doctors are unsure of my diagnosis; they don’t think I have Psoriatic Arthritis, which is what my doctors in St. Louis diagnosed me with. So, experiment #1, they discontinued one of my medications — the biologic, Humira, which is used to treat Psoriatic Arthritis, Rheumatoid Arthritis and other autoimmune diseases.  They are currently observing me to see the effects of that change.  Two doctors stood near me last Wednesday and asked me questions about what symptoms were resurfacing, and asked if I thought they warranted taking the medication I had been on.  We agreed to do some more observing.

They also decided to add a new medication, Neurontin, which they said is used for fibromyalgia,  to see if it alleviates some of these symptoms. Experiment #2. Well, since I am not currently working, and am not in danger of missing work due to illness, I agreed to give it a try.  I mean, maybe they are right.  Maybe I do have fibromyalgia.  And if I do, doesn’t it seem that Neurontin would help with my symptoms?

Well, here’s where I differ from a lab rat.  I have a computer and am quite adept at doing my own research.  I do have a master’s degree and a bachelor’s degree, after all.  So, my research shows me that Neurontin is used to treat epilepsy and the nerve pain associated with shingles.  Let me assure you that I do not have epilepsy, nor have I had shingles.  Now, I have been around doctors long enough to know that medicines can be helpful to treat maladies for which they were not originally designed.  So, I did more research to see if people with fibromyalgia had any success with Neurontin.  The results I found were overwhelmingly, ‘No.’  In fact, it seems that Neurontin is great at causing sleep, lethargy, dizziness and weight gain.  Great.

So, I am supposed to take 300 mg at bedtime for one week to see if that ‘helps’.   Then I am can, “if you want” take 300 mg in the morning and 300 mg at midday.  Really?  They are letting the rat decide if she wants to sleep more, be more lethargic, dizzier, and heavier?

I have been taking it for four days.  No, I don’t feel better.  Yes, I sleep very well.  I sure hope I haven’t gained weight in four days.  Lethargy?  I mean, we may or may not have watched ten episodes of Criminal Minds this weekend while lounging on the couch.  But, I did also go to the gym on Friday, walk on Saturday and Sunday, and yell loudly every time Michigan State scored against the University of Michigan.

This rat is skeptical.  But, two years into this thing, nothing has really alleviated all the symptoms.  No tests exists to definitively diagnosis what I have.  In fact, all my labs say I am ‘normal’.  [Insert laughter here].  Actually, if I was truly a rat, no doctors or scientists would be doing anything to me.  From the outside, I look just fine.

But I am not a rat.  And I can tell you that I am not just fine.  But I can also tell you that what I have is not life-threatening, it just slows me down. It makes me uncomfortable, and it forces me to rely on others.  Because I hurt, I have more empathy for others. Because I am slowed down, I have more time to listen.

Do I want a cure for that?  I think I need more time for observation.

Isaiah 55:9

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways,

and my thoughts than your thoughts.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Is it possible to have the spiritual gift of tears? I have often thought I could get a gig as a professional wailer for funerals.  When I was a child, I could be counted on to cry at any given occasion, usually because I wasn’t getting my way, but also because I was sad, or tired, or hungry, or one of my brothers had poked me one too many times.

As I grew older, something changed, and I don’t always produce tears on behalf of myself.  I might get a little choked up at a goodbye, but rarely do I really sob because of something that is happening to me or about me.

But let me see someone I love hurting, and look out!  I don’t even really need to know what they are hurting about.  If someone dear to me has a tear in her eye, my eyes will well up to match it.  If someone I know has lost someone dear, I will weep with them.  But what’s really weird is the fact that I can see a total stranger sobbing and I, too, will feel overcome with emotion.  Does everyone do this?  Or is it just me?

Yesterday, I had a good reason to cry.  I attended the memorial service for a dear friend who died almost one month ago.  I hadn’t seen her in three years, so it’s not like I will miss our daily interactions.  She holds a dear place in my heart because of her impact on my life, but I am actually thanking God for taking her after eight long years of battle with breast cancer.  My body sighs relief to match her relief.  But, despite the fact that I am happy for her, I sobbed yesterday.

And, not really for myself.  I think I can be honest about that.  The service was at the church she had belonged to for twenty years — where she and her husband had raised their daughters. Many friends had come to share in the celebration of a woman who certainly beamed joy into every room she entered.  All the music was up-beat praise music, which is what my friend and her family loved.  It all proclaimed the hope she had in Jesus and the certainty of her salvation.  None of this made me cry.

What made me cry was watching the back of her tall, broad-shouldered husband of forty years, standing in the front row without her, singing the words of the songs, nodding his head in agreement. What made me leak tears was seeing her daughter embrace her granddaughter, sharing tears of loss and sadness.  What made me sob was watching her other daughter stand erect and sure, dabbing at her eyes, then walking to the front of the church to share beautifully her mother’s legacy which she challenged friends and family to carry on.

My day to day life will not be changed because my friend has changed addresses.  The lives of her family will never be the same.  For them, I wept.  For them, I pray for comfort.

Revelation 21:4

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more,

neither shall their be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more…

Evaluating Exchanges

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

It came this morning — my first rejection notice.  “Thank you for taking the time to apply.  We are contacting you to let you know that the position has been filled.”  I should have kept every letter or email like this I have received over the years.  You can’t be addicted to applying for jobs without experiencing the rejection letter.  And, just like with parking tickets and library fines, I take rejection letters in stride.

I actually was not surprised by this one at all.  The position needed to be filled as soon as possible, and I recorded that I would be available starting January 5.  This letter didn’t sting.  Actually, it spurred me on to look for more openings and to put in more applications.  You know, improve my chances.  So, I checked all my usual spots for jobs, to no avail, and then said to myself, “OK, on to blogging.”

The fact is, as much as I am looking forward to finding a position, I know I will make an exchange when I am actually hired.  I will exchange availability for schedule.  I will exchange boredom for activity.  I will exchange rest for work.  I will exchange energy for pay.  It’s math, guys.  24 hours – 0 working hours = 24 Kristin hours.  Right now I spend each of those hours virtually as I please.  I sleep for 8-10 of them.  Yeah, I know — luxury.  I cook for 1.  I read for 1-2.  I exercise for 1-2.  I socialize for 1-2.  I do Bible study and blog for 1-2.  I rest for 1-2.  I clean or run errands for 1-2.  And pretty soon, my twenty-four hours is used up!

Now, one thing I know about math (besides the fact that I am lousy at teaching it) is that it is consistent.  It always works.  So, if I work for 4 hours a day and sleep for 10 hours a day, that leaves for 10 hours for everything else — exercise, cooking, cleaning, shopping, socializing, spending time with family (including my husband, of course), and resting.  That might work.  If I spend 8 hours a day working and 10 hours a day sleeping, I have six hours left for everything else.

Before I slowed down due to my physical limitations, I was spending about eleven hours a day with work-related activities — travel to and from work, actual time at school, grading and prepping, and extracurricular activities.  I started to realize that something needed to change when I would drive dazedly (I think that’s a word!) home from work, collapse onto my couch, and then crawl off to bed before I started the whole cycle again.  After all, 24 minus 11 hours at work minus 10 hours of sleep = enough time to shower, eat, switch one load of laundry, and respond gruntingly to the people I love the most.

I can’t go back to that. I would exchange too much.  I am not willing to trade time on the phone with a daughter or son for time in the car.  I am not willing to trade dinners with my husband for supervising a hallway.  I am not willing to trade time blogging for time grading papers.

But I think I am willing to trade a couple hours of Netflix for a couple hours in a library, or teaching a community college course, or editing a dissertation. I am willing to trade time spent hunting for jobs for doing an actual job. I am willing to let my husband cook dinner occasionally so that I can use my God-given gifts to connect with others.

I am close to the time when I will be ready to make an exchange. But I won’t trade time with my son who is coming home on leave next month. I won’t trade the Christmas holidays with my daughters who will both be here.  I won’t trade meeting my new granddaughter.  I won’t trade walks with my husband.  I won’t trade time re-connecting with Jesus.

This gift of time, of being still has allowed me to appreciate the value of time with those I love the most.  It’s worth more to me than any job, any title, any paycheck.

I won’t trade it for anything.

Matthew 6:21

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.