November 28, 2011

Hello loyal doodlish people! As you can see, I have waited until after the major holiday of November to write this installment of desperation. That’s really not what I intended at the beginning of the month. I sincerely and determinedly planned to write a nice Thanksgiving type of doodle the weekend before the big day, but something happened to deter me. I can’t remember what, but it was definitely something. Last month I was in this same exact intersection of life–time to write a doodle, with nothing but the big blank side of a mental-deadline tractor trailer sliding inexorably toward me on the wet pavement of my brain. Just before the moment of impact, wherein I would be forever smushed by my own writing lethargy into a muttering mass of morass, I cried out to God for inspiration–even a single word to propel me forth into deep ponderings! And He came through with a major praise fest in my soul for the torrents of blessings of my life. So now I’m thinking that he surprised me with a Thanksgiving doodle a month early.

That leaves me wondering (once again) what to write about this very minute. I could add to last month’s thankfulness by telling you what a blessed time we had as a family cooking, eating, decorating and playing board games together over the last five days, but since I just snuck that in on you, there doesn’t seem to be any point in being redundant on purpose. Or I could just skip right onto my December Christmas doodle, similar to the way retailers jump from Halloween to Christmas without much, if any, thought for Thanksgiving. That would be giving into the fast-paced, materialistic culture all around us these days, however, so that is not an option for this wish-I-could-put-the-brakes-on-and-just-enjoy-some-peace kind of girl.

So I think I will open the door of my washing machine brain and let you see into a cycle that has managed to suck me down into the murky depths of agitation over and over in my life. Just when I think I’m about to come to the top and make it into the dryer with a nice, fresh-smelling sheet of happiness to control the static, I’m dragged back down for another round. This is what I like to call the Manic Martha Machine of Madness.

I have a problem discerning the good from the best, and doing from being. I so want to BE the BEST like Mary, Martha’s sister, who knew how to slow down and sit at the feet of Jesus, being with Him and letting Him teach her what to do. Instead I flit around DOING the GOOD, and letting that good drag me around until I am exhausted, grumpy and mad at the Marys who are not helping me with all the doing I get myself into! I’m especially vulnerable to being churned to the bottom around the holidays, but this year I’ve felt the pull through every season. I think I am getting to the age where I need to get this figured out before I end up a little shredded wet rag tangled around the agitator of stupidity!

Changes need to be made somewhere in order to make room for the little blessing to come in March. I have no idea what I need to give up, but it’s not going to be writing and it’s not going to be time with my family. God loves all of us Marthas. There must be a way for us to love Him back without driving ourselves batty. Let us all pray for each other!

And that, my friends, concludes another episode from the Doodling Dingbat.

Check in next month for some Christmas spice around the gingerbread house.

Godspeed (which I hope is nice and slow) to you!