I have been slammed lately. That's just all that I can say about it, slammed. When I haven't been working, I have been getting ready to work. I am planned and studied and managed and organized and I have had no time to write.
This has been made even more frustrating by the number of great ideas that have run past my mind the last week. I think that's what happens to great ideas. If I don't act on them immediately they run right past. They do not run through or they might leave a trace I could draw from. But no, they flit up, catch my attention and I say something like. not now I am too busy, and off they go never to be heard from again. Gosh, it's frustrating. My life is so darn fascinating, why don't I have time to record it all. I once thought about a voice recorder where I could say, note to self , and have a place to store ideas. But I know I would never listen to it and if I did I would think it was stupid.
In addition to getting these great ideas I have become fascinated with object lessons. This was pointed out to me over the weekend. I took a flight home from a class and had a wonderful time watching the world outside the plane. A discussion about the clouds and how pretty they were followed the flight and my co-worker remarked that I was no doubt already thinking of an object lesson. I absolutely had been thinking the entire flight about object lessons. I didn't ever bother to pretend anything else. I have become a walking illustration. I am always looking for something that makes a point. I have become Andy Rooney or Andy Griffith or some Andy, always telling a story to make a point. I think this is scary.
I am very much afraid that one day I will end up on a porch, on a rocker, underneath a lap blanket, telling people object lessons. They will say nice things about me in my hearing and not so nice things outside of that. There will be a large path cut around my house by those who do not have an hour to come listen to me. Worse still I will become a repeater. I will tell the folks who stop the same object lessons over and over, sure I haven't told them yet. I will think I am profound only I will be superfluous. This must be avoided at all cost.
So I am going to try to stop looking at everything as a lesson in the making and just enjoy the moment. If something worth while occurs and it's useful we will just say thank you and move on. And if God in his infinite wisdom is sending me raw material to be used to further the kingdom, I am sure he will give me the opportunity to deliver the lesson without wondering what every thing that happens to me means.
So even though the geese and the clouds and the topography of farm country is excellent materials, I am intentionally not giving you the object lesson. We will let that settle until it naturally evolves into a great piece or flits past leaving nothing behind. Patience is a virtue and all that other stuff. Let that be a lesson to you!
This has been made even more frustrating by the number of great ideas that have run past my mind the last week. I think that's what happens to great ideas. If I don't act on them immediately they run right past. They do not run through or they might leave a trace I could draw from. But no, they flit up, catch my attention and I say something like. not now I am too busy, and off they go never to be heard from again. Gosh, it's frustrating. My life is so darn fascinating, why don't I have time to record it all. I once thought about a voice recorder where I could say, note to self , and have a place to store ideas. But I know I would never listen to it and if I did I would think it was stupid.
In addition to getting these great ideas I have become fascinated with object lessons. This was pointed out to me over the weekend. I took a flight home from a class and had a wonderful time watching the world outside the plane. A discussion about the clouds and how pretty they were followed the flight and my co-worker remarked that I was no doubt already thinking of an object lesson. I absolutely had been thinking the entire flight about object lessons. I didn't ever bother to pretend anything else. I have become a walking illustration. I am always looking for something that makes a point. I have become Andy Rooney or Andy Griffith or some Andy, always telling a story to make a point. I think this is scary.
I am very much afraid that one day I will end up on a porch, on a rocker, underneath a lap blanket, telling people object lessons. They will say nice things about me in my hearing and not so nice things outside of that. There will be a large path cut around my house by those who do not have an hour to come listen to me. Worse still I will become a repeater. I will tell the folks who stop the same object lessons over and over, sure I haven't told them yet. I will think I am profound only I will be superfluous. This must be avoided at all cost.
So I am going to try to stop looking at everything as a lesson in the making and just enjoy the moment. If something worth while occurs and it's useful we will just say thank you and move on. And if God in his infinite wisdom is sending me raw material to be used to further the kingdom, I am sure he will give me the opportunity to deliver the lesson without wondering what every thing that happens to me means.
So even though the geese and the clouds and the topography of farm country is excellent materials, I am intentionally not giving you the object lesson. We will let that settle until it naturally evolves into a great piece or flits past leaving nothing behind. Patience is a virtue and all that other stuff. Let that be a lesson to you!
No comments:
Post a Comment