This is the phase of little ones waking at 5:15 AM. All the processing I plan to do before sunrise gets shoved to the side for the diapering and feeding, which is fine, too, because this is my real life. Seth came home from work midday yesterday shivering like something I’ve never seen. We knew immediately that it was either flu or malaria. Our doctor friend came over and feels confident he has the flu, though the test was negative. Regardless, this is the stage when all plans to write turn into a really good pot of chicken noodle soup.
It’s okay really. I have no excuse. The entire day yesterday I had planned to write then, too, but instead I shoe-shopped on the internet because there’s a masquerade ball coming up, and all my fancy shoes make my feet feel broken within about 20 seconds. Shopping for shoes on the internet is like the book “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.” I came to desire strappy shoes with a short cocktail dress, but I can’t do that unless I wear panty hose. Otherwise, I would have to get a tan. All this caused an identity crisis, because I considered laying down with the devil in a tanning bed (Lord, have mercy on my soul), and when have I ever wanted to wear panty hose? Also, is it okay to wear panty hose with shoes that are open on the side? This is serious. It took an entire day of my blessed life.
I look over to Titus now, a two year old trying to put on a pair of gloves. That’s how I feel, too, buddy. I get frustrated.
I am frustrated by my own yo-yoing philosophies no matter how much scripture I ingest. I’m frustrated with how we playact church but seem to often miss the point. I am frustrated by my own desire to find identity in ministry. There are obvious flaws in my orthodoxy because there are flaws in my praxis. I’m certain that the place I find the inconsistencies most are in my writing, and that’s much of what I’m afraid of here. I used to be so brave, but now I don’t want to reveal it. I’m certain that I have a great deal of work to do, and honestly it’s making my bones burn like fire. This is the real reason for all the shoe trouble, all the distraction. I have work to do.
My girlfriend, Laura of Hollywood Housewife, wrote a post about her word/phrase for the year, and since I tend to borrow her phrases every year (last year it was Start Where You Are), I have decided to follow her again with DO THE WORK.
I believe that when we’re frustrated, it doesn’t have to be for nought. It doesn’t have to stop short and simply turn the person into a huffing brat. Frustration can be the first burning sparks of holy desire. I believe that I am not becoming cynical. I believe a vision is coming together. I believe that I can share here without fear. I believe that I will do the work, and whether I be run-of-the-mill or overly spiritual, I plan to come here to do it.
Now here’s to my hushing up about all the work I’m going to do! Here’s to just doing it.