The junk Drawer

I have a (well, really several) junk drawers at my house. None of them started as junk drawers, but through neglect and laziness, “junk drawers” they became. The drawer that you keep miscellaneous pens, pencils, erasers, batteries, sticky notes, etc., is the one acceptable junk drawer every house can have. No, you usually can't find what you need in it because it's so disorganized, and for some, even painful to open, but, it is still the socially accepted “messy drawer”.
In our home we love to have a comfortable place for guests to visit. We love to have people over. When people are coming over, I like for things to appear clean and neat-I try to check the toilet bowl rim; make sure the sink/counters/table is clear of stuff; check if anything that may be lurking under the furniture can be seen if someone sits on the floor. I do, however, struggle with organization. Over the course of the week, “little piles” of papers and junk invade our home. They are made of the things that you don't have (or take) the time right way to deal with, so they end up in “little piles”. Some turn into “big piles”. What do you do when you have people coming over, and you need to quickly abolish the 'little piles”? Well, that's where “junk drawers” (plural) are useful. If the piles don't fit in the drawers, there's the “junk cabinet”. When the cabinet is filled, there's a closet. And when the hoarding and laziness have gotten out of hand, there's the “junk room”. I love to have people over, and I want them to feel like they are in a comfortable, relaxed environment. Please come to my house, I want you to feel like you can just open up and let go of the cares of the world. However, you are only allowed into specifically sanctioned areas. FOR GOODNESS SAKE DON”T OPEN ANY DRAWERS, OR CABINETS, OR CLOSETS, OR GO UPSTAIRS. If you saw that, what would you say? “How can she stand it?”, “Do you like everything being a cluttered mess?” Please limit your wanderings to the yard, living room, guest bath and kitchen.
Part of the reason I enjoy having guests, is I LOVE to talk. Chit chit chat, yak yak yak, blah blah blah. I can talk for HOURS on end. I really enjoy hearing about people- their thoughts, joys, struggles, ideas. I love to make people feel like I can “relate” to them. I will never be shy about sharing a story or scenario that relates to you or your situation. Someone who has spent time chatting with me might tell you that I am an “open book” because I'll talk to you about anything you will talk about. But, the truth is, I am NOT an “open book”. I am more like a library with certain books and sections of books that are accessible, but much of the library is off limits. I love reading your book and will reference things in mine or even other people's books, but to just allow you to grab a book of any old shelf? Not so much.
I can talk forever about nothing, but it's very difficult for me to really talk about things that matter, things that are important, things that invoke emotion. I become overwhelmed. When I meet with my kid's teachers, I can discuss methods and strategies and performance, but when I truly attempt to express my gratitude to these wonderful people who invest in my children, I get choked up. I recently resigned from my position in the toddler room where I work. We had Parent/Teacher conferences my last week. I had no issues going over the developmental continuum, talk about progress, or steps moving forward, but when I opened my mouth to tell a parent how dearly I have enjoyed having their child in my care, nothing came out. I just started to cry. I will miss this student very much, but I just couldn't say it. I am also pretty useless evangelically. When I attempt to tell someone about my Jesus, how loves me and died for me and even though I suck, He wants to have a relationship with me, my throat tightens up and my eyes fill with tears. (Okay, I am totally tearing up writing about this stuff. What a loser!). When faced with any situation when I know my words are emotionally significant, I freeze up. I am afraid. I can't say anything. And if it does come out, what if it comes out all wrong?
I read a term a few months ago called “low intimacy tolerance”. I liked this term. If there's a term for it, it must be OKAY! I can tolerate other's intimacy, but can't seem to reciprocate. This term gives me the liberty to avoid being vulnerable. I can keep the window to my soul one of those one way mirror things used in interrogation rooms on cop shows. I really don't know I'm doing it, it has just become how I do things. I know the defense mechanism better than I know myself. I don't have to be afraid if I risk nothing. “Relating” is much easier than actually “knowing”. If you knew me, What would you say? “How can she stand it?”, “Do you like being a cluttered mess?”.
There are times when the rooms, the closets and drawers get organized and pretty. THEN, you can feel free to look around. A friend of mine once said, “If you want to see my house, call first. If you want to see ME, just stop by.” It can't be much fun to just keep visiting someone's house, but stay confined to the kitchen-never seeing the person who lives there. So, if I allow you to come over and my house is a wreck, please know that I'm making progress. This is who I really am-A WRECK.

In the quiet place

Christian culture speaks a lot about the discipline of having a daily “quiet time”. It is an act of worship to our God, giving him the firstfriuts of our day, and telling Him our time with Him is valuable enough to schedule it. Quiet meditation is a time of focusing mind, body and spirit. We have studies, lectures and sing about being able to hear God speak to us in that “Quiet Place”. I'm going to be honest, I'm not of the opinion that it's all that big of an awesome accomplishment to hear God in the “quiet and stillness”. Don't misunderstand me-I'm not knocking it, or the importance of getting away and having undistracted time with God. Amazing insights, growth and confidence come from of those times. What I want to know is, how do I hear God in the noise?
I always thought of a “quiet Time” as something that helped you connect with God in the morning, and hopefully it was of good enough quality to sustain you through the day. If it wasn't enough, just get up an hour earlier and devote that much more time in the morning (yeah right, I'm a total slacker and would be all grouchy and complaining and totally nodding off by 9:30) AND THEN, it would be enough to get you through the day. It probably is great discipline and people who do that are AWESOME, and I Epically Suck, but for me to do it would sound a lot like a “formula for faith”. If I spend “A” much time doing “B” good thing, then I'm “C” all good with God and can go about my business. Yay Me!
I have what has been clinically diagnosed as an Attention Deficit Hyperkinestetic Disorder, which is “fancy talk” for ADD. Environmentally quiet times are some of my most difficult times to try to focus. My mind is racing. I think the reason I talk so much is an effort of trying to keep up with a racing, random train station of thought. Trying to go to sleep used to be the absolute worst, until I had the aid of medication and ritual. Being still in the quiet place, in my experience, is more of a challenge communicating with God than being at a Phish Festival.
A few years ago, I was driving my daughter home from a birthday party at night. I was in our neighborhood when I saw a couple walking with two dogs walking ahead of them. I didn't pay too much attention. Two people walking their dogs, presumably on leashes. Well, one of the dogs (a cute little dirty white westie mix) ran into the street and darted in front of my car (“darted in front of my car”-that's a stupid expression. Where the heck did that even come from?). One of the people who were walking called out to the dog. It didn't respond, and I hit the dog. I was horrified. My daughter was traumatized. The people walking were freaked out. I got out of the car and started immediately apologizing all over myself for running over these people's dog (from here on known as Fifi). As it turns out, neither of the dogs were on leashes because, they weren't their dogs. Ni either dog had a collar. I wasn't driving fast enough to kill Fifi, so he had scooted its little (probably crushed) behind to the side of the road with it's little front legs and lay it's head on the curb, panting, with a look of excruciating pain on it's little doggie Fifi face. I didn't know what to do. The people went home, and I'm standing in the middle of the road with this fatally injured dog. I don't have a dog. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it. Luckily, a family stopped and asked me what was wrong. When I told them what had happened, they got out, wrapped Fifi in a jacket and took him to an animal clinic. Now, these people are CLEARLY way better than me, and I could go on rambling of their greatness and nobility, but this isn't their blog, it's mine. And you're thinking, “Heck yeah, she's ADD. Fifi? WTF?” But what struck me is how even though someone called out to the dog in an effort to save it, the dog didn't respond. This voice was not the voice of it's master.
Perhaps there is where the discipline comes into play. Not a formula for checking a box and being 'all good', but daily, hourly, minutely communicating, in some way, with God so that, through the noise, you recognize His voice. "Be Sill and know He is God" means that when things are crazy, loud and overwhelming, I can Know he is God, so my heart can be still. I don't believe God speaks in the quiet. I believe He always speaks, Even in a disorganized, noisy mind, I'm just not disciplined enough to always hear Him.




This post is dedicated to the memory of Fifi

Here We Go Again

So, I don't know how you people ever got through the last eighteen months without my valuable insights. Good Grief. It's funny how time (and inspiration) run away from us while we're busy cluttering our heads with other stuff. I've been so busy worrying about "Nothing", that I haven't really been focusing on "Something". I gave up the blog and got caught in the Facebook Vortex. It's like a casino- you can never leave! There are so many links for an ADD person such as myself to click. And you can be all voyeuristic know all about a person and NEVER have to talk to them. Who wouldn't want THAT? As long as you have a friend of a friend of someone, you can see all of their photos. You really can find out if that High School Cheerleader you hated is all fat and has ugly kids, and no one has to know. The opposite is also true, but that's why all my FB pics that are tagged have a maximum wight limit. Any photo that depicts me with more than one chin (which means pretty much anything taken since Grunge was still cool) will be untagged immediately!
All kidding aside, I LOVE Facebook. It does really help people with very different lives stay connected. You really never have to say "goodbye" to anyone ever again. Unless, of course they De-Friend you; the ultimate slap in the face. It says either "I hate you so much, that I no longer wish to see your name on a news feed or gift you puppy kibble for your farm ever again" or "I only really friend ed you so I had an impressive number of people on my Friend List and now I have more that enough, so bu-bye".
If you think about it, for a society that is all "identity theft" and "stalker" conscious, we put an awful lot of personal information out there. Is it really any one's business that GoodBurger is on my Movie Favorites? Imagine what someone could do with that information! But I'll risk it if it means I can spout my thoughts and opinions to the world in an effort to feel self-important.
We'll see how often and how long I'll keep this up. I am pretty lazy.