Am I silly...

Feeling so wretched is exhausting.  And I cannot really change that.  But other things I can ... even if the changing takes eons longer than I think it should.

The fall winds are playing my chimes, have been playing them all day and long into the night.  Despite my bodily misery, the chimes make me smile.  They make my heart sing.  I owned them for several years in Alexandria, but I never heard them play.  Not once.  Here, all fall and all winter, it seems as if God is playing them for me.  Am I silly for thinking such?

I have been listening to my chimes whilst languishing in the GREEN chair.  Their music, I confess, has broken through my discouragement on several occasions.  For example, having given up cable, I now have to miss Monday Night Football.  Oh, how hard that is!  So, Sunday night football is my make-do. Tonight, however, I could really only listen to the game.  My vision was too blurry to follow the plays, which made me a wee bit sadder than I already was.  Feeling so wretched is exhausting and horrid and all I really wanted was to watch the Broncos stomp all over those mean folk disrespecting a quarterback who gave his all for them.  [We won't discuss the outcome of the game.]

So, a while ago, still feeling wretched, I was lying on the GREEN grass awaiting Amos to venture off the back steps to conduct his minor business.  He was too afraid because of all the noise.  At first my mind was on the wind chimes that I could still hear as I watched the night clouds move across the sky.  So, I could not figure out what was frightening Amos.  Then, I realized the source of my puppy dog's fear:  a flock of geese were talking to each other—rather loudly—as they flew above our heads.  In a V.  Really, geese actually do fly in a V!  He must have heard them coming a lot further off than I did.

I laughed so loudly that Amos fled back up the steps to the back door.  Any unexpected noise, even that from his beloved puppy momma, startles him and the fear that washes over him propels him to seek a place a safety.  Poor little guy.

Before I dragged myself off the ground and up the steps to scoop up my very own fluffy white cloud and take him back to where he could complete his business a thought struck me.  What was I feeling in that moment, lying on my GREEN grass, listening to the chimes and watching the night clouds?  I don't know.  I do know that my thoughts were of the wonder and the blessing of creation and how God didn't have to give us such good things in this world.  He could have created a very utilitarian world.  But those are thoughts and not feelings.  I thought about how Amos scurried back up the steps and then thought about the night of the last concert.  I thought about lying on the grass watching the clouds and listening to the large pipe wind chimes.  When we went back inside, I dragged myself upstairs and changed into the fitted outfit I wore at the concert.

I changed into the fitted outfit I wore to the concert, scooped up my puppy who was no longer shaking, and went out to the front porch.  Amos just loves sitting on the bench with me.  And he doesn't really mind if I am shaking or nauseous or filled with fear.  So, I sat on the front porch, listening the wind chimes fill my ears with music, watching the clouds move across the night sky, and wondering what the geese were talking about on their journey south.  For twenty-seven minutes, I concentrated not on what I was feeling in the fitted outfit, but on how I felt about the music and creation and the puppy dog draped across my lap, relaxed and periodically emitting sighs of deep contentment.  You see, at night, there are no interlopers on our sidewalk, so Amos can enjoy his home without need of reminding everyone and every thing that it is his home.

Sitting there in my fitted outfit, I was shaking and nauseous, but I did not vomit.  I was shaking and nauseous, but my whole being was not focused on the fitted clothing ... just part of it.  I did not try to discern what I was feeling or understand it.  A bit of a maelstrom was brewing.  Instead, I tried to focus on the good thoughts and the good feelings and let the bad thoughts and the bad feelings just be without any judgment.  However, twenty-seven minutes was quite enough for me.  

Am I silly for thinking of and doing such a thing?  I don't know.  But, surrounded by the music created by the wind created by my Creator, was a good for me, even though what I was wearing also made the time difficult for me.

Even though he does not understand me, I tell Amos how proud I am of him each time he faces a fear.  Facing fears that do not go away is hard.  Facing fears when you do not actually want to face them is hard.  Facing fears you know fell you is hard.  Amos makes his circuits about the beds before stepping paw on the dreaded grass.  He might "water" the smoke bush four times before his loins are girded enough to take that step.  And taking the first step oft leads to a leap back to the brick boarder or straight over it to the mulch.  Amos might actually attempt to step paw on the dreaded grass five or six times before actually achieving his victory.  Sometimes, in his haste to be off the dreaded grass, he leaps back before he is quite finished with his business and, with much frustration, will stop and finish in another spot.  I laugh at his antics. I weep over his battle.  And I am proud of him.

I know he continues to face his battle because I refuse to let him conduct his business inside.  But I also know he continues to face his battle because I encourage him as he does so.  I give praise for those tentative steps and console him when he flees back to safety before actually taking care of business.  Yes, sometimes I am short with Amos, snapping at him about how wretched I feel and about how hard it is for me to be outside waiting on him.  I am an imperfect puppy momma.  But I do recognize that he is better when he is encouraged, when he is not alone in his battle.

Tonight .... or rather early this morning ... I suppose you could say that I thought that the music being played on the wind chimes and yet another evening of night clouds and a flock of geese flying in a V and nattering with each other as they flew overhead were all God's way of reminding me that while it seems and looks and feels as if I am alone, I am not, actually, alone.

I know that it probably sounds silly to think that God plays my wind chimes.  But He did create the wind and He did grant the knowledge of the making of music to mankind.  I know that Jesus was never ashamed of his body, but He did suffer indignities in and to it.  The Bible teaches that He was tempted in every way, although I cannot fathom Jesus battling shame.  But He did pray to be spared what He knew was coming.  A human does not want to suffer.  And Jesus was human.  A God is willing suffers to save His children.  And Jesus willingly suffered to save me.

Twenty-seven minutes to me is probably like twenty-seven months to you.  Maybe even years.  The weather has definitely turned, so I will not have to worry about wearing cool clothing to concerts until next Spring.  I find a bit of peace and rest in knowing that until then I will get to happily hide in warm outfits.  But maybe when the weather turns warm again and cool clothing is in order, I will remember those twenty-seven minutes and all the good gifts of my Creator that I was able to savor despite being clothed in fear and shame.

Now, I am taking my silly self up to bed, where I hope to get some sleep, despite my still wretched state, because, later on in this morrow that has already begun, I have to face another fear so that the burner on my new stove might have its function restored.  Lord willing, this will be a one-trip-no-part-ordering-and-having-to-return sort of repairman visit.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!