Quiet Time

I'm just a little depressed. (The details of this low ebb are both fleeting and selfish -- Surprise!)

So I'm sitting in our living room, in the coolness of the morning, enjoying a little quiet time. Although the family should be trekking to church, I am choosing a more dormant role for the day to think and plan and dream and pray about the future.

It shouldn't surprise you that I pray. That is, not so much in the conventional way -- "Now I lay me down to sleep..." My intercessory cries are much more desperate and urgent. "God help me!" or "Deliver me from this evil right now." I firmly believe that the most effective prayers are those that are prayed out of utter helplessness.

Ever wonder about the switchboard system that connects all prayer-ers to the ear of the Almighty? Picture Lily Tomlin's character "Ernestine" -- One Ringy Dingy! Probably not. Picture the Matrix with jillions of body batteries connected to the central core. Still not quite right.

Try this... Picture the midnight intution of a mother as she has a burden for a wayward child many unknown miles away. And the HQ of a modern war operation with real-time data coming in from all over the planet and a CO making split second life and death decisions to win the war. And the great composer wielding his pen to note by note (life by life, as it were) to create the most beautiful music ever heard. And picture a father running to the foot of his driveway to eagerly embrace a son who he hasn't seen for some time, who left under the guise of self-sufficiency, self-gratification, and selfishness.

God is all of that and MORE.

So why am I depressed? I'm not anymore.

I once was lost, but now I'm found.
'Twas blind, but now I see.

For the wonder of it all...

For Cryin' Out Loud

I'm not the biggest whiner at my house. Close, but not quite the biggest.

Yet, as I leave for work everyday, I whine. What's with that?

It could be that I'm just sick of hearing the F-word so frequently as a noun, a verb, an adjective, etc. Seems a little overused within my earshot.

It could also be the sheer number of ignorant people I have to work with. (Please let me qualify that -- by ignorant I mean simply that they don't now or ever will understand why a video project doesn't seem to fit into a standard rush job time line.)

It might just be that I'm A.D.D. and boredom hits my cubical at about 8:23 am each day and the rest is torture.

But, alas... I'm pretty sure it's that I'm not in my strike zone (as the consultants would say).

Going to my Society of American Magicians Assembly meeting in a few minutes. I can hardly wait. Getting to go do magic stuff is the best part of my day.

For cryin' out loud...

I Will Not Be Afraid

Singing and making melody in my heart to God.

Sure I can sing. I can sing silly songs, love songs, war songs, church songs, campaign songs, protest songs, etc...

But I can also sing songs of deliverance.

Follow the road, the road that leads us where the healing waters flow
Where do we go when the world forsakes us, where the healing waters flow

So I launch into another week with the renewed heart and a hope for something better around the corner. Immersed in the healing waters, I emerge. Ready. Willing. Able to serve.

Be exalted oh God!