To make Routine a Stimulus
Capacity to Terminate
Is a Specific Grace —
Of Retrospect the Arrow
That power to repair
Departed with the Torment
Become, alas, more fair —
To make Routine a Stimulus
Here it is, the start of a new work week. I’m sitting in my somewhat- messy kitchen, getting the “next thing” done–writing today’s blog post. This past weekend I was privileged to attend a conference at my in-laws’ church. What a wonderful experience to hear two godly women, one with Parkinson’s disease, one with a son recovering from a heart transplant, speak about their faith. But now . . . guess what? I need to put some of that great teaching into practice. Otherwise, to use an analogy I’ve heard many times, I’ll be like the Dead Sea. Know why that body of water is so salty, so devoid of life? . . .
I have thought many times that the worst thing in the world for me is to get up in the morning and think, “There’s nothing that I absolutely have to do today; I get to set my own schedule.” At the end of the day I almost certainly will not have accomplished many, if indeed any, of the tasks on my to-do list. I will have started out the day with good intentions, but I won’t have lived up to them.
. . . a blessing was lost!
I call it “the horrible sinking feeling.” It occurs when I get hungry, even though my blood sugar may be perfectly normal. (I’ve checked it at times, including this morning.) I get fuzzy-headed and have this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sometimes I feel sleepy. This morning it happened again as I sat in the lecture of the Bible study group I attend. The teaching director is a wonderful woman who always has great insights; I enjoy and profit from her very much. But I was struggling to stay alert.
“Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?” David Martyn Lloyd-Jones
We’re always told to listen more and talk less, aren’t we? The one exception to this rule is in our interactions with ourselves.
I’ve written a couple of posts quoting Anne Ortlund, on her book and on her ideas of stripping down our lives. Sadly, she’s no longer with us, but her heritage lives on in her books. (The first link is to her Amazon page.) Today I was struggling (as usual) to get myself going on what I needed to do, and I was reminded of her idea that says,
. . . can change your life.
Love Must Be Tough: New Hope for Families in Crisis by James Dobson, originally published in 1983 by Word Publishing, now available in many different formats and from many sources.
I write in chapter two of my book, “How Our Emotions Work” (see sidebar for ordering information), that one source of happiness/unhappiness is how well we keep our promises to ourselves. If we cave in and break a promise to someone else there are often consequences, but what happens when we don’t keep our word to ourselves? We are diminished in our own eyes. We feel bad. We berate ourselves: “Why did I do that?” Our blood sugar levels go up. Whatever.
I’ve been mildly obsessed of late with the Phantom of the Opera. If you’re a reader of the posts over on the music blog page, you’ll remember that my chorale is singing a piece from the musical and that I was trying to find out the reason for the Phantom’s disfigurement. I mentioned the novel Phantom by Susan Kay, which I have now read and which reminded me of another novel that revolves around appearance, especially facial appearance, Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis. Lewis’ novel is a re-telling of the Psyche and Cupid myth but is narrated by Psyche’s older sister, Orual, who is as ugly as Psyche is beautiful. The main characters in both novels cover their faces, one with a mask and one with a veil. And for both characters there is no reason given for their ugliness or deformity; it’s simply the way they were born, and it has profound effects on their lives. Neither one can ever have a normal romantic relationship, although both fall in love. It’s a very intriguing concept: that someone can be intelligent, talented, and sensitive, as both of these characters are, and yet be doomed to live apart simply because of the arrangement of their facial features.