Pushing It

I’m sick.

No, I’m really sick.

Breathing is difficult.  Head is spinning.  Photophobia.  Coughing.  Influenza.

How did this happen?  I rarely get sick.

I’ve been working as a janitor, a custodian for a church.  One of my jobs is to clean the carpets with a big extractor (carpet cleaner).  It is self-propelled.  Pull the trigger and steer basically.  Only trouble is it doesn’t go very fast.  I can’t tell you how many times I catch myself pushing it.

And do you want to know how much effect my body has on pushing a heavy machine that is set to go a specific speed.

Zero.

I have been doing that with God, with my life.  Pushing and pushing to see things happen.  Working really hard to get some where, to make things happen.  Trying to be a good husband, a good dad, a good servant, a good man.

Pushing it.

Influenza.

Broken immune system.  Fatigue.  Depression.

Today, I picked up my guitar and sang for no one but God.  I played, not to practice, but just to spend time with Him.  In my impatience and scattered thoughts, I had about a fifteen minute window with Him.

It was good.

I’ve been pushing too hard and too long against a life that won’t “get better”, circumstances that I can’t change, a past that won’t go away, a God who is immovable.

Here’s what I can do.  Be grateful for the good life I have.  Accept the circumstances of my life as a product of my decisions AND the Grace of God on me.  Forgive my past and let it go.  And ask what He wants instead of telling Him what I want.

And I can rest and cough and shiver and ache…

And heal.

The Rocks Will Cry Out

Lately, it has been difficult for me to write. I spend a lot of time working, a lot of time planning, a lot of time being sick, a lot of time doing but can’t find time to write. It is not that I have run out of ideas, I’ve simply run out of space. Getting up at 4:00 has its perks. No one bothers you; no one needs your attention. The down side is when you don’t get to go to bed till 11:00 at night. Can’t keep that up forever (at least I can’t). Now why am I sharing this? I have lately been questioning my sanity. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I keep coming back to something that so few will ever hear? Jesus was rebuked when the crowds cried out with their “Hosannas”. He was told he should have them stop. He said, “If I tell them to be quiet the rocks will cry out.” That’s how I feel. If I were to quit writing it wouldn’t stop the words, it wouldn’t alter the praises. It would only remove my part in the song. And I don’t want to quit singing. I don’t want to quit playing. I don’t want my voice to be stilled. I think I have a unique voice, writing style. I don’t think I say much that is monumental but it comes from my heart and God often uses what comes from inside us in monumental ways. My weakest efforts, laid at His alter, open to His Spirit, can be used for something great. But even if they aren’t, I can’t stop. I don’t think rocks have the best voices either.