5 Minute Friday: Tired

Well this week certainly got away from me. It’s already time for another 5 Minute Friday Linkup with The Gypsy Mama! You know the drill.


For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

    1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
    2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
    3. Most importantly: leave a comment for the person who linked up before you – encouraging them in their writing!




TIRED
I’m so tired. A really great Beatles song starts with this line…. Let’s not got there. I really am tired. Yesterday was my last day of class for the semester. It feels like I’ve poured out all my brain on papers and group work and I have very little left with which to think and write and converse.
I wonder when there will be a day when I’m not tired. We stay up late, enjoy each other and the city of London, we sleep in (sometimes, depending on classes), we rinse and repeat. When are the days of 12 hour nights plus naps? Was that only for a brief moment, sophomore year in college? I long for days when I don’t feel tired. Or braindead. Or frustrated. Or short-tempered. 
I need some perspective. Someone once told my Mama right before she had me that hopefully she had cherished a good night’s sleep because she wouldn’t have another one for 18 years…! If these are the good days of restful nights free of care and worry and limited responsibility, I need to feel less tired!
I guess the tiredness affects my attitude and sleep deprivation doesn’t help, so I will try to, a) get more sleep and, b) adjust my perspective. It’s Christmastime and in the words of Kevin McAllister’s mother, “The season of perpetual hope.” Amen.

Ungrateful

I cringe as I write that word. It’s true of me: I’m ungrateful.

This came crashing into my reality only recently when I read this quote:

“What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?” 

 My response was: I would have nothing.

That got my attention. Finding things–searching outside myself–to focus on that I am truly grateful for really pours water on the fire of anger and bitterness.

I struggle most days with choosing joy and contentment over selfishness and circumstance. But I have learned that a thankful heart is rarely self-centered and a grateful attitude rarely contains anger. So I focus on being thankful.

I’m on the mend!

The nurse said she wouldn’t have to see me again for 6 weeks! That was just news too good to not pass along!!

We–Mama, Grant, and I (with the doctor’s permission)–have been able to do some really fun stuff:
The Mousetrap at St. Martin’s Theatre–amazing!
Driving Miss Daisy at Wyndham’s Theatre–who knew a touching story of a jewish lady and a black man would make us miss Atlanta so? Beautifully done–it was Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones’s finest hour High Tea with friends; drinks at the Holly Bush with more friends (I had a Coke… I was still very much on meds but loved the company and setting)
Dinner with Londoner Katie (from Church)
Lunch with Aussie Gimyana (also from Church)
Tea with family-friend Katia and her new baby!!
Mama squeezed in the British Museum and a few other “touristy” things without me {and Grant went to class}

I have learned much about myself and about where I put my trust and my hope. There was much newness and little/ no comforts of the familiar: new place, new school, new flat, new healthcare system, no family except my exceptionally patient and kind husband who attended to me with limitless care. It showed me how much I value comfort and ease over the new and unfamiliar and difficult–how blessed and lucky we are to have to much support even in a new place and strange circumstances. It also taught me that you can create friendship and family with people all around you. The body of Christ is a beautiful thing in action.

We are grateful. We are healing. We are going to be ok.

Just in case you’re one of the few who have not seen this {64 million others beat you to it} this is treat from me to you:

Something about the eyes and the nose and mouth… remind me of Georgia. Happy Friday!

Times and Seasons

“Jesus said to them, ‘It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by His own authority.'” (Acts 1:7)

I realize that this was in response to the disciples’ question about the second coming of Christ and the restoration of Israel, not in direct response, to say, my equally important question. But I feel I am in the middle of a season of when and why not now and I find myself pleading with God all the time.

Nothing wrong with that!

The disciples understood this and came from a long line of Jews asking desperately how and when and how long, oh Lord?! Most of the Old Testament is sprinkled with the groaning of people – the Israelites in the desert, the people striving to establish justice through judges, the nation crying out for a king, the prophets lamenting Israel’s wayward heart, the “remnant” of the Babylonian captivity, the revelation of the coming Christ Messiah – the waiting, the disbelief, the confusion, the crucifixion, the three days, and finally the resurrection! There is hope and a promise and salvation as a result of all that, but what a history to have come out of.

So we, too, as believers corporately step into this long line of patiently waiting for the revelation of something to come. There is a powerful spiritual implication for each of us, if we can grasp it, accepting the season of already, not yet.

Today at Hillsong, I was reminded of this verse, and it seems that God is speaking right to my soul: Lucy, it is not for you to know times or seasons that I’ve fixed by My own authority.

There is a purpose.

I am God. You are not. {It’s better this way.}

I don’t need your permission; I have all authority.

I am trustworthy.

It seems to be much easier expelling energy (to my detriment, I might add) fighting the whole thing, but to what end?

He has designed it – any season of waiting – as a time to either struggle against the not-knowing and pout like a child {me, mostly} or to revel in the journey. Do I let Him lead me or do I seek my will, missing what could be something beautiful? Am I stiff-necked, proud, and untrusting or pliable, teachable, and moldable? Do I value the known over the unknown – no matter the cost; regardless of the One who goes before me and behind me?

It is a simple and frustrating question: Do I trust Him?

I want the answer. He wants my heart.

I want independence. He wants my humility.

I want knowledge. He wants my trust.

I want the destination. He wants the journey.

And he gave a cry, saying, “I have faith; make my feeble faith stronger!” (Mark 9:24b) Lord, help me learn to wait.