The Hustle

There's this cool app on my phone that helps me sleep at night. You can choose all manner of sounds that will make you slumber. Cool, running water. Crickets and frogs in the forest. A creaky gate in a cemetery (no thank you). My favorite: gentle beach waves, oh yes I wish I were there. It's supposed to help with tinnitus, that lovely ringing in the ears that plagues some of us. I've never understood why that happens, but there's all kinds of articles on the internet about how it can be a precursor of some pretty horrid future maladies. My brain is already overactive, so it's probably just a sign of things burning up. I can smell the tar now... We had a friend who died at 37, but everyone said that he'd already lived 74 years since he was one of those people who sucked the marrow out of life. Double prizes. 

This last couple of weeks has my shoulders and joints aching like they're at least 85 years old. It's not the years, it's the mileage. I've been planning, decorating for our church's 20th anniversary celebration (it was like decorating a wedding), selling real estate (well, trying to), stopping epic disasters, talking to all my people, and staying up way too late at night. The last week, in particular, has been a real estate roller coaster ride, with four contracts zooming back and forth like those giant saws you see in old timey horror movies. The market is wonky and trying to figure out what it's going to do. Those crickets are singing. I'm plumb tuckered out. Papa and I put off our annual anniversary trip until April, two months after the big day. I didn't figure we'd get a trip this year and was perfectly happy with our giant breakfast at Cracker Barrel, complete with him buying me clothes from their shop. Yes, I get my clothes at Cracker Barrel. 

I too often stand on the precipices of life, complaining and whining about what I'm doing, what I'm not doing. I'm pressed into the corners, having to learn patience (I have none) and constantly trying to figure out what it means to trust God. You'd think I'd already know how to do that, but no. My dream life would be to be free to make the rounds with our grandkids ALL the time, do artwork, play my flute, talk to everybody and their brother, and not have to worry about making money. Problem is, when that check clears the bank you tend to forget all about the hardships. You feel like you just won the lottery or something. For what, maybe five minutes? Then it's tax time, time to pay the piper, time to get back to the grind. No matter what God has us doing, however, we need to step back and see the bigger picture. What are the larger, nobler purposes, or what could be? I think it's human nature to always be peeking over the edges, the fences, to be discontent and ungrateful for what we have or for what is right in front of us. 

Yes, my shoulder is aching like it's gonna fall off. My brain is full and the B-B's are falling out. I rushed and rushed yet I didn't even crack open my Bible today, the thing that would have given me guidance and serenity. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And that He does, despite my oft-faithless heart. If we could do it all ourselves, what would we need Jesus for?