Hitting the Snooze Button

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Woke up this morning, and I hit the snooze button. I hit the snooze button, over and over again, for the next hour. I didn’t want to get out of bed today. But I did get up, make my coffee, and manage to eat a few lemon poppy seed muffins–thanks, Tab!–with some oatmeal.

Photo by Paul Neil on Unsplash

In the process of getting ready, I happened to check my social media feeds. Friends and family, who are normally pretty chill people, are upset and angry right now. The topics of Coronavirus and racial injustice overwhelm my normal places of fun escape.

This has been one of those weeks where I have hit the snooze button more; this has been one of those weeks where I haven’t read my Bible as much. Instead of starting my mornings in the Word, I have been starting my mornings with a different type of word.

I am tired this morning.

Physically tired.

Mentally exhausted from being told that I should fear something. That instead of engaging history, we think that that engagement equals erasing the past. We live in some sort of Orwellian nightmare.

Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it. – Winston Churchill (paraphrased)

I am also heart tired. As Augustine wrote, I long for how our human experience could/should be versus what it actually is. While we may not put this longing into words, this is a longing for Jesus to return. His return will fulfill that deep human longing for the restoration of all things, for justice. No more:

  • Sickness
  • Death

A future where we will work alongside the Creator of the Universe. The curse of Adam, against work, removed from us.

In writing all of this, I realize that I need to pray for strength to overcome being tired. I also need to pray for grace… maybe for myself with the snooze button… more so for those whose actions I do not understand right now. When you have been living a pretty normal life, for more than a month, and your friends and family have not been, it can feel like talking to people on Mars. Irregardless of that Martian divide, I think grace continues to be the word.

From Across the Net – “Navigating Different COVID-19 Recovery Convictions”

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“I believe one of the ways that the enemy will seek to divide our ranks within the church is by tempting us to use our opinions against each other. If the Devil has his way, we’ll be throwing stones of accusation from all sides, calling the cautious people “soft,” labeling the optimists of being “reckless.” More than that, the enemy especially loves when we cement ourselves in political corners; adding opinionated fuel to the already tumultuous fire of conflict.”

Costi Hinn, For The Church – https://ftc.co/resource-library/1/5289?fbclid=IwAR2vq3Xds5JDa-vXtC5pef78_9Gmat9f_KutxW4ZNUNy9FBJEVz5VXsYznQ
Photo by LOGAN WEAVER on Unsplash

Of Paws and Pounce

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Once upon a time, in a land just up the street, there lived Princess Paws and Princess Pounce.

One day, their father, mother, and other siblings struck out on a trip to a neighboring kingdom. Princess Paws and Princess Pounce were left in the care of a kindly villager family.

Days went by, Princess Paws and Princess Pounce played in the fields and adventured about. They chased after chickens, brushed up against a duck, and missed their family most of all.

Photo by André Spieker on Unsplash

One day, the kindly villager family arrived to make sure Paws and Pounce were doing okay. Princess Pounce loudly meowed, as she realized the kindly villager family were her only human playmates.

WATCH ME, SHE SAID.

Princess Paws, after much searching, was missing.

  • She was not in her kennel.
  • She was no where near the castle.
  • She was not anywhere to be seen.

The kindly villager family searched high and low. They called out:

“PAWS!”

But she was not to be found.

The royal family returned from their journey. After much searching, they found that Princess Paws had burrowed herself into a hole in her kennel. She knew she had parvo; she knew she was going to die. The family had to use shovels to dig her out. A trip to the vet did not help her.

In the end, this author was super bummed out that a friend’s black lab puppy died while in my care. There was something beautiful about watching Paws follow Wyatt around as we took care of the other animals. Almost, ALMOST, makes me want to get a puppy for him (ssshhhh, don’t tell him!).

I prayed at some point, and I told God that if there are animals in Heaven, that I hoped Paws would be there now. Such a sweet puppy.