You see, what happens in the South when the Fall air begins to roll in and the leaves start to change and the humidity begins to lift is a little something I like to call Football Fever. I had it last Saturday. One of the worst cases I've ever had came upon me suddenly even though my to-do list was screaming for attention. I thought to myself, "Self, you've got so much to do...but football is on t.v. ALL DAY!" So I gave myself a little break from my daily grind or drowning in lesson plans to indulge in a little bit of the SEC's most beloved past time. And it was a good day. I ate some ribs that were cooked to perfection by a charming boy from Texas and ate some of my very own specialty, mac and cheese (homemade, of course). Every 30 minutes or so, I'd think about my to-do list and murmur to myself, "It can wait until tomorrow..."
That Sunday began as Sunday's normally do, with a hurried shower and thrown together make-up because I overslept my alarm for church. But I made it, with minutes to spare. Worship was exceptional at church last week so we all ventured out for some lunch with my to-do list still casting a foreboding shadow on my day. I procrastinated as long as possible until I finally just had to - excuse the expression - man up and do it.
I worked. Hard. All afternoon. I unfortunately left several things undone before Monday morning came screeching into my life like a Mack Truck in dire need of some new brake pads. You can probably guess what the rest of my week looked like because you've probably been there too at some point or another. All week, it was eat. work. sleep. eat. work. sleep. eat. work. sleep. I have never wished away a weeks as much as I did last week. But in all of it, how could I be so forgetful? I condensed my quiet time into a mere 5 minutes. I can't help but feel so disappointed in myself.
But then again, that's what happens when we rely on ourselves for our holiness. We are flawed creatures. We are depraved and eternally imperfect in our own efforts. We dig ourselves into this pit of darkness before we can even blink. How dare I forget about my Father? My Jesus gave me Hope, Life, Breath. Am I really so desperately flawed that I forget about Him? The answer, dear friends, is yes.
This past week was so busy that I never stopped to stop saying "I". "I have so much work to do; I have this to get finished." "I have that to turn in by Thursday." When I rely on me, my world gets thrown off kilter. If I had taken just a second to sit down and breathe and let God fill me up the way He always does, I would have realized that I didn't have to do it all by myself. He wants me to ask for help. He wants me to look up at Him like a child and say, "Father, will you please help me?"; "God will you take this from me?"; "My Jesus, will you show me how I can get this finished without jumping off of the balcony of my apartment first?".
I know that I often think of God as this huge creator of everything and then I think of God as the warmth that fills me up with more joy that one person could possibly contain. Why do I so often think of Him separately? He is the same God that created the stars. The Creator of my favorite beach is also the Creator of my soul. The God that formed the Sahara is the same God that chose, in spite of my depravity, to give me hope and a future. Praise Him!
So, I say to you, here's to a new week. May your days be long and productive and your nights be full of laughter and friends. I urge you to never forget that God cares about every part of you - even your broken fingernail. He wants you to talk to Him. So don't repeat my week long mistake. Take the joy that only He gives and let it fill you up this week.
-M
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