One Life to Love

So...one lesson I've been learning a lot lately is that life is short. As you know, I am workaholic and a perfectionist to boot -- it's SO easy for me to get consumed by making sure every little detail is not only perfect but above and beyond expectations. This translates into doing intense amounts of extra credit homework, doing double assignments, studying and restudying obsessively...you get the idea. And while that's all well and fine, I'm finally starting to learn that there's more to life than striving for perfection.

When I get to Heaven, and Jesus asks me what I've done to further His kingdom, do I really want to be saying, "Well...um...well I DID get all 100's while I was in school! Perfect A's, every single year! And check out all the extra credit points I racked up!" Somehow...I don't He'll be that impressed.

My goal this year has been to shift my focus to the things that really matter in life. Don't worry -- I'm not saying school isn't important. I know that God wants me to work hard and get an education, because He's going to use that to His glory in whatever situations He places me in later on. I'm going to need that. (So even when Algebra seems pointless, I remind myself that somehow, this WILL glorify God, in the end...!). What I AM saying, though, is that priorities are important. I'm learning that sometimes, you have to skip a class to go vist your amazing youth leader Amy, who needs a lift. You might need to skip the extra credit homework assignment because your friend has just called you, sobbing. You might need to give up studying that chapter for the 13th time because your brother's club needs extra volunteers at a bake sale. Life is about loving; above all, we are to glorify God and spread His Word and His Love to all whose lives we can touch.

I'm learning that being so wrapped up in my own goals is selfish. I'm learning that I don't need to worry about the "what ifs" because if I'm following God's will, I know it's all gonna be OK. I'm learning that this is our one chance to spread the joy and life is too short to squander it on things that won't matter.

Will my SAT scores matter 10 years from now? Heck no. Will the fact that I was there to help my best friend out when she needed me matter? Oh, yeah. You bet it will!

When I get to Heaven, will God give a hoot about all the study hours I put in? Maybe. Maybe not. Will He be more concerned with the time I spent serving others, loving others and leading others to Him? Oh yeah, baby.

This song has been influencing my thoughts a lot lately, too.

Poetry Series: Week 1

Hmmm. I've been thinking, lately....I've decided that I'm going to try posting a poem every Monday...I mean, seriously -- what better way to start out your week?! And it might not necessarily be an original poem; they could be well-known favorite poems or perhaps completely unknown poems by random obscure poets that just happen to jump out at me at the time...or maybe something in between. Who knows...I'm still in the brainstorming phase. I'm hoping, though, that this will help me post more regularly and keep things at least a tad bit more interesting around here...

I still need to come up with a name for this little series, though...ideas, anyone? Alliteration is fun but I've already ruled out "Meditative Mondays" (sounds too sleepy) and "Metaphorical Mondays" (has too many syllables) and there aren't any fantastic "p" adjectives to pair up with "poetry"...although, in my defense, it is rather close to midnight and there's a fantastic chance I'm just not thinking straight.

So, seeing as it's Monday (at least, it is if I post this within the next 19 minutes...!), here is the very first entry of...whatever it is that I'm going to name this series.

*ahem*

Sandcastle Promises

Sandcastle promises
Built on uncertain shore
Beautiful to look at
Yet good for nothing more.

Lacking a foundation,
Made up of tiny grains;
Bits of rock soon washed away
Until not a single one remains.

Hopes, once packed together
Now quickly fall apart
These sculptures have no meaning;
They’re momentary works of art.

Their existence is soon shattered
By waves of reality
All my sandcastle promises
Have eroded completely.

So have I based my life
On all the petty things?
Or do I live with purpose,
Does my life have meaning?

Do I believe all that I say,
Am I willing to take a stand?
Or am I simply building
Fragile castles in the sand?


Hmmm.. I was going to post my thoughts on this poem but I changed my mind. How about if YOU guys tell me what YOU think??

How God Is Like Ice Cream

Ok. Now bare (bear?) with me.

Today I had ice cream -- real, actual, honest-to-goodness ice cream, packed full of sugar and calories and a million other unhealthy and therefore positively scrumptious things -- for the first time in months. Perhaps longer.

It was, in a word, AMAZING!!!!

How was I surviving without ice cream, you might ask? The creation known as “frozen yogurt” (which is a strange name, really; it doesn’t taste anything LIKE yogurt. But whatever. The inappropriate nomenclature of desserts is an entirely different rant) Well, in my house, we eat “healthy”. Or at least, we try to. Which means that the only kind of ice cream we ever have is fat free, sugar free stuff..."frozen yogurt"...which is usually not...great; quite frankly. Yeah, it’s better then nothing. And at the time, it seems to hit the spot and quench your craving for that cold yumminess and it’s OK, really.

But it’s not great. It’s not the best. It’s not authentic. It’s not REAL.

And while you’re eating the fake stuff, you might almost be able to convince yourself that you like it. That it’s good enough. That it’s kind of like ice cream, really, just…not…
Frozen yogurt is a trap, you see. Eat only frozen yogurt for a long enough time and you'll find yourself thinking, "Huh...so maybe this isn't so bad." You might try to convince yourself, "This is good enough. I don't really need real ice cream anyway. Hmph.". You might start getting used to it; you might find yourself lowering your expectations and accepting something that's less then what you desire.

But in the end it leaves you feeling empty.
It doesn’t satisfy you.
It’s not what you crave; not what you desire.
It just doesn’t measure up.
No matter what you tell yourself, fat-free sugar-free frozen yogurt is nothing compared to true Hershey’s Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup ICE CREAM. There’s no comparison, really
And when you finally taste Hershey’s, you realize what you’ve been missing out on! You realize how much more there is to life! And you won’t ever want to go back.

So…go with this for a minute… there’s an awful lot of ‘gods’ out there. People “worship” and idolize celebrities, or money, or popularity or their own self-image. That’s the fat-free sugar-free frozen yogurt stuff. That’s the stuff that might seem nice at the time, but really, isn’t all that satisfying. That’s the stuff that you fill your life with because you THINK it’s good enough, but really, it’s not. It doesn’t fill you up.

God is the Hershey’s Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream. God is the real deal. In a world full of frozen yogurts that try to convince you that they’re just as good, God is the one who stands strong. God is the only one who can satisfy your heart’s desires and really “fill you up”. When everything else that you’ve invested your time and money into fails or falls short of your needs, only God will be there… true and real… and ready to supply everything you’ve ever needed; ready to give your life purpose and make you whole.

How sweet is that???

So...why settle for something that's fake? Why spend all that time trying to convince yourself that something's "right" when clearly, you crave more?
Wouldn't you rather have the best? Wouldn't you rather have the real deal??

Isaiah 55: 2-3 discusses this thought:

"Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live. "

In essense, he's really saying, "Why are you wasting your time with things that clearly don't satisfy your heart's desires? You crave more in life; you crave meaning! Come to God and your SOUL WILL LIVE." (Note that Isaiah also tells us to "eat what is good".....maybe he's telling us to skip the fro yo and get some good ol' ice cream, huh?!)

Paul reminds us that God is the only one who can supply us with all that we need:

"And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."

In other words, He'll fill us up the way nothing else can. No subsitutes. No almost-as-good.

The real thing.

"Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. " -- John 17:3

Contrary to popular belief....

....Running is not about math.

Not at all.

In fact, it has nothing to do with numbers.

This is what I discovered today.

Now, I know. I'm sure some of you are taking a deep breath and geering up for a big argument that no doubt starts with something along the lines of, "Well, actually MMSG, the sport of running has an awful lot to do with math. You see, there's rather important concepts like oh, say, distance, minutes, seconds, miles, kilometers, time, calories, speed, the distance/rate/time formula...all of these, believe it or not, are related to math and have an awful lot to do with numbers. So you see, you are very wrong."

Ok, fine. You've got a point. Maybe I should word it differently...

Running should not be about math. Or, for that matter, numbers.



I'm a relatively new runner. I only just started running last month.

But regardless, in these last few weeks, running and I have gone through a lot of phases.

When I first started running, there were a whole bunch of feelings, though most of them centered around the general idea that, "This is great! This is the coolest thing I've ever done! I love it!". Week one was mostly made up of excitement about trying something new.

By week two, however, the novelty had worn off. Excitement was replaced by exhaustion and thoughts like, "Oh, man. Shouldn't it be easier by now?! Ugh. I can't do this. There's no way I can keep doing this!" dominated my consciousness. I was tired and wondering how much longer I could keep it up. Was this really the right sport for me?

Week three hurt, quite frankly. If nothing else, it tested my resolve and determination.

But week four dawned bright and I found myself redoubling my efforts. Motivation soared as I hit the I've-been-running-for-one-month milestone and I pushed myself harder than ever; determined to prove how much I'd improved. Week four hurt, too, but at least I was proud of myself.

Week five was much the same; in the midst of a million other commitments I crammed in time to run... because I had to, after all. I had to get in those extra 10 minutes; I had to do that extra mile, I had to run a fourth day. I had to push myself even harder; I had to beat my best time; I had to get better and do more.

And today is the start of week six. And today also happens to be the day that I've had an ephiphany.

Which brings me back to the statement: Running is not (or should not) be about numbers.

What it boils down to, is that I have finally realized that when I am totally focused on miles, minutes or m.p.h., I'm not having fun.

I started running because it was fun. Because it relieved stress. Because, in the midst of a totally crazy life it gave me time to think my thoughts without distractions. I thrived on the time I spent running on my little country roads, surrounded by forests and birds in the distances and cornfields. I loved the solitude. It was refreshing and invigorating and it made me feel good.

But I allowed myself to get caught up in getting better; doing more; going further. My motivations shifted. Instead of wanting to run, I dreaded it, because I knew I'd be pushing myself even further and becoming even more exhausted. Instead of looking forward to something that had, just a few weeks ago, relaxed and refreshed me, I found that I was instead dreading this thing that was, ironically, causing me more stress.

The over-achieving perfectionist in me dominated the dreamer in me. And I wasn't happy anymore! It took a deer, an icy wind and a drenching rainstorm today, during my run, to make me realize that in a few short weeks I had -- all on my own -- managed to ruin one of the few things that made me happy. I had allowed the numbers to invade!

Here is what I told my very best friend about my revelation-of-a-run earlier today:

....It was an interesting run. I decided to do my favorite route and I set out under the looming, ominous, gloriously dark gray storm clouds praying the rain would hold off til I got home, with the goal of beating my current record, if even only by a few seconds. The first half of my run was great -- for the first time in a month, I felt like I've made some progress. I found that I was running for longer periods without slowing to a walk and I felt really good. So I kept pushing myself and pushing myself and soon I was gasping for breath and every muscle in my body was screaming, "No! I can't take anymore!" and I felt like I was going to throw up. At that point, I realized that if I was pushing myself to the point where I was making myself ill then clearly I'd lost sight of all the reasons I'd started running and I needed to chill out and rethink my priorities (I think all those endorphins make me all philosophical-like. The strangest thoughts go through my head when I run!).

As I was arguing with myself about all this, I turned a corner and quite literally almost ran right smack into a deer, who was just as surprised about our meeting as I was. I think we were only about a foot away by the time it lept one way and I veered the other way. It was pretty cool! (And a pretty stinking big deer, too, I might add!!!)

ANYWAY, now, (in my continued philosophical state) I wondered if perhaps this was God's way of telling me to slow down and enjoy this run, rather then push myself to total exhaustion. And since at that point, I was nearly doubled over from cramps, I sort of had to slow down to a "brisk walk" anyway.

It was at this point that I finally realized it was raining 9and, unbeknownst to me, probably had been for quite awhile) and I was rather wet. Drenched, actually.

So -- here I am, two miles away from home, drenched, caught in a downpour; being blow about by an icy wind [it's only about 50 degrees today anyway], in pain from intense running and already exhausted, and what do I do??

What do you think? This is me, we're talking about.

I stopped and looked heavenward and, in a very Hollywood-movie-like way, spread out my arms and twirled around in the decending drops and said, "Thank you, God, for thunderstorms."...

Is there something in your life that you are dreading right now, even though you used to enjoy it? Maybe it's because, without you realizing it, your priorities have shifted. Maybe you're doing something with different motivations or for different reasons then you originally intended.

There's more to life then numbers and being the best and beating records. Sometimes, you've got to do something solely because it brings you joy and helps you appreciate life. Sometimes, you just have to dance around in a thunderstorm.

"Life isn't about learning how to avoid the storms. It's about learning how to dance in the rain."

p.s. I really REALLY like the title of this post. It's one of my favorite phrases! It just occurred to me that it might be a good title for this blog, instead of "Upon a Thought", which I don't really like. I might change it. Hmmm!

Meetings and deadlines and schoolwork, oh my!

Ok. So...well...I know I've talked about this sort of thing before. But that was months ago. And it's important. And I'm taking a different viewpoint on the subject, this time. :)


Yesterday I spent, with the exception of about 35 minutes in which I came home, ate lunch, and changed -- 13 consecutive hours away from home; at church and meetings. Which was GREAT, and all; it was a FANTASTIC day. It was just...long. And pretty tiring.

It's another one of those weeks. *sigh*

I have fours papers due. I have a meeting or commitment every single night this week. Today was the deadline for a few magazines that I needed to submit writing to (goal for tomorrow). There are two contests I really want to enter that MUST BE POSTMARKED NO LATER THEN SATURDAY. My room is a mess -- even *I* can see that. I need to plan a Sunday School lesson for this week. I have a million school assignments that I need to catch up on. Plus, I'd really like to go running three -- or ideally, even four! -- times this week.....

And none of this is a bad thing, don't get me wrong!
But it is a tad bit...overwhelming...I'm feeling like every single second (literally) of my life for the next few weeks is completely scheduled away.


One thing I’ve struggled with for my entire life -- I know, I know, that sounds funny coming from a high schooler, but bare with me -- is “me” time. You know, taking time to think without overwhelming myself; to breathe without hyperventilating. It’s always been a concept that just completely eludes me -- I’m no good at relaxing. Never have been.

I took a class once, and one of the women in it told me her “story”. A middle age single mom working two jobs, raising two teenagers, taking care of an aging mother, etc, etc. Obviously, she was incredibly stressed out with everything she was dealing with. “It got to the point,” she told me, “that I was so miserable, so exhausted, that I didn’t want to get out of bed. People would ask me how I was and I didn’t know how to answer them. How was I? What was I feeling? I had no idea. I was losing myself to all those I held dear. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to help them. I did -- I do -- more then anything. It was just that I couldn’t do it all. I couldn’t be everything to everyone forever.”
It took her years to come to this conclusion, she confessed, and once she finally realized it, she was able to come up with a solution. She decided that every Thursday night would be “her” time. Starting at 7pm, she’d turn off her phones, she wouldn’t check her email, she’d take time for her. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted. “And there are days when it’s still incredibly tempting to schedule things on 'my' Thursday nights. But ultimately, I’ve learned that I NEED that time in order to function. If I don’t take a few hours to recharge, to unwind, to do things for me, then I can’t possibly do anything for anyone else.”
And it’s hard!! It was hard, she said, at first, to explain to family and friends what she was doing. It was so hard to stick to her guns and keep Thursday nights free.
“It’s a commitment I have to make every single week,” she said. “And it’s still a challenge. But it’s worth it.”

Wow. I so admire her resolve! I admire her courage!
Because it is an INCREDIBLY hard thing to do, to make time for yourself; to take a minute or an hour or *gasp* a whole day to not work. Whether you’re a junior in high school trying to figure out what the heck you want to do with your life or a mom with three kids trying to go in 56 directions at once or going through a midlife crisis or whatever…wherever you are in your life, it’s hard. It’ll never get easier!

But the fact is…God doesn’t want us to spend our lives trying to cram every extracurricular activity, every volunteer opportunity, every extra-credit assignment, every committee meeting, every commitment in to our lives. He doesn’t want us to be so busy that we’re miserable; so weary -- whether physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually (or all of the above) -- that we can’t function.

Think about it logically. I’ve found out that hard way that I can’t do schoolwork when I’ve had a week’s worth of only-three-hours-of-sleep nights. It just doesn’t happen. I can’t perform to the best of my ability, and I truly believe that performing to the best of my ability is a way that I can bring glory to God.
You follow me so far?

Likewise, I can’t be an effective teacher at preschool if I’m consumed by stress or worry, because I can’t focus on what I need to.
I can’t take time to pray when I’m too busy to think my thoughts.
I can’t think my thoughts unless I take time to do so.

My fabulous youth leader made a suggestion tonight. Start with one hour, she suggested. One hour a week that you schedule into your life -- same as you’d schedule a meeting or a date or a study session -- and let it be yours. After all -- a week is 168 hours long. Surely you can afford to make ONE of those hours yours?

“Ok,” you might be thinking now. “So maybe I can handle that…but…what about when I feel guilty?
”Well, I deal with this all the time, too. I feel incredibly guilty taking time for “me”. I feel selfish-- "who am I to say that I’m more important? I could be changing the world right now. I should focus on THAT, not silly old ME…and think of all the things I could be doing right now,” I always argue with myself. “I could be studying for that Chemistry test or reading next week’s chapter for AP Psych or writing a letter to so-and-so or volunteering here or doing this or that or…” and that’s where you’ve got to realize that you don’t have to feel guilty about it!

Whoa. Foreign concept, I know. NO guilt? Really? I might be…allowed… to take a break? *gasp* To read a book that’s not required for school, to watch a totally pointless movie that makes me laugh, to sit down and call a friend just to say hi, to write a silly story, to play with my dog or go for a walk or do *biggest gasp yet*……nothing?!?!

Yup. That's what I'm saying :)

“Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and our God and Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting consolation and good hope by grace, comfort your hearts…” (2 Thes. 2:16-17).

God longs to comfort us when we are weak; to give us strength and hope and to renew and refresh our souls…but we have to allow Him. We’ve got to give God that space to come into our hearts. We’ve got to give ourselves the time to just be still.

One of my all time favorite Bible verses is Psalm 42:10: “Be still and know that I am God.”

It reminds me that I don’t have to be constantly moving in a million directions at once; obsessively working to glorify God. Sometimes all he wants me to do is be still…still…and just acknowledge his presence and his majesty. It’s then that I will find the strength, the knowledge, the peace, the courage, whatever I need, to keeping working for him.

Give yourself an hour this week to be still.

Failings of the Future

God sees the worst of you and loves you still. Your sins of tomorrow and failings of the future will not surprise Him -- He sees them now.
And He loves you still.

I was reading Max Lucado's "Hope: Pure and Simple" (I HIGHLY recommend this book!!! All of his books, really..!) and I stumbled across this tiny passage. The magnitude of the message and the incredible-ness of the implications made me stop and think. And re-read it. Here, read it again:

God sees the worst of you and loves you still.
Your sins of tomorrow and failings of the future will not surprise Him -- He sees them N O W.
And He loves you still.

Take a deep breath and just think about this passage for a moment or two.

Being in high school, I'm having a lot of experience right now with interviews and applications. Think about an interview you had or an application you filled out: Was it about your successes or your failures? Your achievements or your mistakes?
We live in a society obsessed with pride. Listing our successes and hiding our failures. Lifting up people for their accomplishments and laughing at those who make mistakes. We are obsessed with constantly trying to justify ourselves, our lives, our deeds and live up to -- or exceed -- the expectations of others to succeed. We have this bizarre need to tell the world of our accomplishments and hide our failures.

I mean, just look at it -- your education, your acceptance in to colleges relies on all the good things you've done.
From every angle, this world is telling us, "You must be successful!! You are a worthy person when you succeed!"

Look at sports "heroes". Are people thrilled with them when they lose a game? Do fans look up to and admire an athlete who has failed over and over again?
Usually not.
In a sad way, people's love of sports heroes depends on their success.

Colleges only want you if you are successful; if you have achievements to list and reasons to be considered worthy.

Who would want a failure? Who could love a failure?

The One who sees the worst of you and loves you still.

You see, God's message is so very different then the world's. God says, "I know you are going to fail. I love you anyway. Just come to me and I will welcome you back with loving arms."

You can run as far as you possibly can from God, and He will still be right there waiting for you, with open arms and a hopeful heart, waiting for you to turn around and accept His love. There is nothing you can possibly do that will end God's love for you.
You don't need an application or an interview in order to be God's child. God already knows every solitary thing about you -- every achievement...and every single failure too.

And He still loves you. He still wants you.
And that is the most amazing and confusing and comforting concept, all at once.

Can you believe that there is Someone out there who already knows every single thing about you? Who knows every single mistake you will ever make? Every cruel word you'll utter, every angry argument you'll have, every attempt at revenge, every sinful thought and deed, every possible failure...
and that, despite all this, He loves you still?

In a world where it sometimes feels like you're not good enough for anything, there is a God who says you are good enough for Him.

Ever heard the story of the Prodigal Son? It's found in Luke 15:11-32.(Or, you can watch the VeggieTales version, The Wizard of Ha's)

It's about a guy who thinks he knows better then his father. He gets fed up with the hardworking life of his family on the farm, has a bitter argument with his father, takes his inheiratance money, leaves the family farm and runs off to have the time of his life.
And for awhile, he does -- everything he could ever want or need is his. Gambling, reading magazines of questionable content, X-rated movies, smoking who knows what, buying expensive jewelry and clothes and for him, life is going well. He is living his dream -- freedom, luxury, and all the wine he can drink.
He thinks he's happy, even. Until he runs out of money.
He is suddenly left with no friends, no money, no house, no job, absolutely nothing.
His new "friends" disappeared along with his last penny.
He's afraid to go back to his father because he thinks that his failures will cost him his father's love.
He has failed too many times, you see. He messed up. He sinned. Over and over and over. And now he's feeling unlovable, unworthy.
Eventually, the son realizes that there is no where else to turn. He decides to go back "home" and beg his father to take him on as a farm hand. He feels that his father could never forgive him for all his mistakes and accept him as a son -- but maybe he can get hired, and at least begin a life; something better then wandering the streets stealing food from pig's troughs.
So he begins the long journey home -- hungry, weary, dirty. Feeling more like a failure with every step. His thoughts are consumed with all of his failures and all his stupidity -- why? What ever made me think that was the right thing to do? And did I get so far away? Why didn't I realize how bad it was? And how could I have failed so much?
Hopelessness abounds.
Days later, he rounds the final bend, and can see his father's farm in the distance. Standing in the road is one lone figure. As he gets closer, he realizes it is his father. He stops for a moment, paralyzed by fear and shame. Any courage he had for facing up to his mistakes is rapidly diminishing.
But his stomach is growling, he hasn't eaten for days and he is exhausted from his journey. He forces himself to take one step closer. And then another. And then another.
He sees his father's eyes grow wide in shock.
What will he do to me? He must hate me. He has every right. I turned against him, wasted so much of his money and now, have the audacity to return?
Unable to look at his father, he looks down at the dirt road instead. Then, he hears his fathers voice, but he is unable to make out the words. He hears approaching footsteps; they start out hesitantly at first, and then grow faster and more impatient.
What will he do? What will he do?
He looks up, and sees his father sprinting toward him with the most unbelievable expression on his face.
Not hate. Not disappointment. Not anger. Not even annoyance.
It's joy.
Utterly baffled, he freezes in his tracks, but his father finally gets to him and throws his arms around him and says,
"My son."
"I'm sorry..." He begins, but the speech he'd been rehearsing flies out of his head, and instead he is left stuttering, "But...but...Dad...I...I...messed up! You should hate me!"
"Oh, no, my son, I don't hate you. You were dead to me, but now you are alive! You were lost, but now you've been found! You have been returned to me. I love you."
And they embraced.

Pretty unbelievable, huh?
Now what if I told you that THAT father is Our Father?

We fail. We repent. He forgives. He hugs.

He knows our every failure -- past, present and future -- and he will love us still.
No applications. No interviews. No list of achievements.
We don't have to win the game or be the best to be God's -- we just have to accept Him.



(For some contemporary thoughts and examples of the Prodigal Son story, see the lyrics to Casting Crown's "Prodigal" and BarlowGirl's "She Walked Away" -- two incredible songs!)

The Flies of Life

Well.

I've learned a very important lesson. Do not, under ANY circumstance, assume that your kitten can ignore a fly. I'm sure you're all going, "huh??". It's a valuable lesson, though, mark my words.

Take last night, for instance. My dear probably-about-4-months-old kitten was "sleeping" (theoretically) in my room. It was dark, I was tired, we were both curled up in bed and I was positively thrilled at the fact that it was finally time for sleep. Sleep is good :)

But, lo and behold, a fly made its entrance. How? Couldn't tell ya. Seeing as we've had a three inch layer of ice on the ground and every other imaginable surface for the last few weeks, I had naively assumed that meant most living creatures were either hibernating or..well...not so living. Apparently I was wrong. How did the fly get in to MY room? Also no clue. In the summer, they're everywhere, but that's because I have my window open all the time...but I assure you, my window hasn't been open for months now.

The point, though, is that somehow, this tiny little fly got in. Keep in mind the size of a fly, OK? Tiny little beasts, really. In the grand scheme of things, they really don't take up that much room or space or thoughts.And yet, I found out that this one, tiny fly had unimaginable power. It's all because of this insect that I didn't get any sleep last night. My kitten, Littlest, apparently decided it was her new life's goal (aside from killing all the house plants and eating all the candles, that is) to catch this fly. Kitty on a mission, I'm tellin' ya. So, she spent THE ENTIRE NIGHT (no exaggeration. Really.) leaping, clawing, meowing, pouncing, jumping, hissing, and desperatly trying to catch this thing.

Not sleeping, which is, believe it or not, what you're supposed to do at night. No -- she was too distracted by this fly to do anything important like, say, sleep.

Needless to say, NONE of us got ANY sleep. The fly was busy buzzing around, finding new hiding places, and taunting the cat (I'm sure I heard it giggling at one point, saying, "Nah nah nah nah naaaah! I'm way up here and you're stuck down the-ere!"). The cat, of course, was consumed by her obsessive desire to catch this pest, and I was stuck listening to them both and praying that all the crashing sounds were nothing breakable. (As it is, I don't think anything major broke, but my room is rather messy at present, and it's kind of hard to tell what was knocked on the floor and what was already there...)

My point? From all of this, we can learn a lesson:

Sometimes the tiniest, most trivial things can distract us from what's really important. Just like Littlest, who allowed this tiny, inconsequential bug to so completely distract her that she missed out on something vital to her health -- sleep -- we, too, are guilty of this.

Ever allowed yourself to worry about something to the point where you tune out what a friend is saying? How about procrastinating? (THAT'S ME!!! But that's really a topic for another post)
Ever forget to pray because you were too busy?Ever skip church because something else felt more important?

See what I mean? It's a dangerous thing -- physically, emotionally, and spiritually -- to let things distract you so much. You will miss out on SO MUCH in life!

Especially around Christmas, there are SO MANY distractions that can get in the way of celebrating our Savior's birth. In the mad rush to buy presents, host parties, pack suitcases, send Christmas cards and hang lights, it's so easy to forget WHY we are celebrating.

So...why do we have distractions, then?Well, here's some food for thought -- what if God gives us distractions so we can learn to be more focused? Think about it -- every time you're faced with a distraction, you're also blessed with the opportunity to become a more focused, determined person. That's pretty cool! We humans have the amazing ability to learn and define our skils. It's pretty exciting! And when we are blessed with opportunities to do so, well, the possibilties are endless! (Cats are apparently the exception to this rule -- they don't seem particularly interested in becoming more focused. Phooey.)

Ok..well...how do we become more focused?

First, figure out what is most distracting you right now...allow your mind to wander for a moment. What does it settle on? A worry? Something you're excited about? An upcoming event? Something you're afraid of? That funny joke your best friend told you? That mean insult you accidentally overheard? Recognizing your distraction is the first step!

Next -- let it go. Scary thought, I know, but let go of all your distractions. Give it all up to God -- whether it is praise or frustration, worry or joy, pain or excitement -- He can handle it. Better yet, He can help you through it.

Then -- once you've cleared your mind and heart, focus on what IS really important. Maybe that's reading the Bible. Maybe it's spending more time in prayer. Maybe it's volunteering somewhere. Maybe it's telling your friends and family how much you care about them.

Whatever it is, make a conscious effort to focus on that.It's not easy to stay focused, and from time to time, everyone loses sight of the important things in life. It's essential, though, to step back every so often and think -- am I distracted? What's distracting me? How can I be more focused?

Hopefully you will be able to let go of all your little "flies" and focus more on the important stuff :)