Harry Potter and the Library Curse

I had two dreams last night, and they're good 'uns, so I'm going to type them up. :-)

In the first dream, I am Harry Potter. Only, I turn myself into a dog. See, I get home (which reminds me of the tube-like structures one would see in a McDonald's playground) and there's a note waiting for me. It says, "Get out of your house and into this bag as quick as you can!" So I leave my nodule, go into the next one, and zip myself into this body bag-esque thing. It turns me into a dog, and next thing I know Ron, Hermione, and a professor (McGonagall? I'm not sure) meet me at my new nodule. But they're all animals, too! Which, apparently, is normal because we then march down to the library.

The professor is putting us on a mission, and we will need some non-fiction books to help us. We're going to steal them and then head out on the mission (we are obviously not believers, as there is no conviction by the Holy Spirit concerning our actions). The professor places a spell on us to keep the other library patrons away from us, but we must stay in the non-fiction section! If we venture into the fiction section, it will arouse the curiosity of those in the library, possibly alerting them to our intentions!

Unfortunately, I am too interested in fiction novels and wander off. An unsuspecting library patron thinks I work at the library and comes to ask me where to put his book back, but as he steps within the spell-zone, he becomes attached to me! He can't leave my side! Apparently, if you get too close, the spell has the opposite effect. Drats.

So I start making my way warily back to the group, only to find that Hermione has become bedazzled by a fictional section (which, oddly enough, is about the Lewis and Clark expedition. The Lord revealed Himself to them, which is why they disappeared--that's the premise of the book. It actually looked scary. Good thing they didn't really disappear). So we make a run for it and leave. My dream ends after the chase scene. I think I get on my broomstick and fly away. Wonder what the mission was...?

My second dream was located in the courtyard outside the library, but I wasn't Harry Potter anymore. It was just a normal world.

I'm sitting next to Aaron Hendrick, and we're waiting for Heather to come pick us up. But he has long hair in a single braid, and no glasses. He looks rather like a little girl.

We start talking, and he starts asking me questions about God and about sins. He seems genuinely interested, and I think, "This guy/little girl/person is practically an open door! But wait, Aaron Hendrick is a believer. Is he just testing me? Oh well, it'll be good practice." So I evangelize him. And right before I get to the part where I ask him/her/it if they want to pray to receive Christ, Heather pulls up. And Aaron turns back into Aaron and tells me he was just interested in hearing how I would handle those questions... and he figured it would be good practice for me.

So maybe I need to practice evangelizing, hey? Okay, Lord, point taken.

White Flag

Since the Lord has taught me transparency, and since no one reads this blog anyway, I'm going to use it to vent my frustrations.

I am living a minor panic attack. Constantly. I'm always agitated, restless. I can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes. My breathing is more shallow... I can't take more than two deep breaths or I feel like I'm going to suffocate.

I'm trying to study, but I can't. I had trouble just driving my roommate to work. That's dangerous! I shouldn't even be on the roads! How am I supposed to function?! How am I supposed to live?!

I don't know if all of this is just a side effect of the medicine, and if so will it wear off? Do I just need to be patient, or is there something else going on? And how much of it is something that I need to throw drugs at and how much of it do I just need to wait on the Lord for and let Him do His thing?

I don't know what normal is anymore. What is "normal-people pride"? How much pride do normal people deal with, and how much of what I deal with is normal? What is "normal-people anxiety"? Is it weird to cry and have a panic attack when you're about to go visit family? Do normal people do that?

I don't know. I give up. I surrender. God, I can't do anything without You, Your word makes that clear. I don't know how many times I've given up already... how much longer? I'm exhausted. How do I do this in Your strength? How much have You already sustained me? I don't know. I don't know anything any more...

I'm Listening...

Listen. My heart keeps telling me to listen, but I don't hear anything. I know I'm supposed to listen to God, but what does that really mean? What does that look like? I can practice listening whenever someone's talking. But when it's just me in my room at night... what do I listen to? I try and focus on something steady, like the whir of the overhead fan--empty my head, in a sense. But that doesn't work for long, and I get the feeling it's counterproductive to what I'm attempting anyway. Listen to my thoughts? Those go all over the place! I will come up with some of the most random things... and inside my head, it's quite entertaining. :-) But it keeps me from listening.

I read the first two chapters of "The Practice of the Presence of God" by brother Lawrence a couple of nights ago. I don't think I realized how difficult it was to be constantly aware of His presence! When I was younger, I had it down pretty well. Then I got arrogant, and now I'm way out of practice. It's like dancing and flexibility--if you don't maintain it, you lose it.

That's something else that's been on my mind a lot lately. I want to dance again. I miss it so much. The Lord uses it to minister to me, but He's also used it to bless others and I want that again. When is the timing right? How do I know? Where do I dance? So many questions...

"Listen."
"Yarg! I don't get it!"
"Listen."
"Fine. ... to what?"
"Will you just listen to Me already?!"

Okay, I know He doesn't get impatient at me like that, but it's only because He's God. I get impatient with me. And all I'm trying to do is listen. To something. Someone.

1 Samuel 3:1-21

The Lord came and stood there, calling as at the other times, "Samuel! Samuel!"
Then Samuel said, "Speak, for Your servant is listening."
And the Lord said to Samuel: "See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make the ears of everyone who hears of it tingle." (vs. 10-11)

Veggie Tales: Into the Unknown

I have a fond memory from my childhood. Well, I'm not sure if fond is the best way to describe it, but... you'll see.

Sitting down to dinner with the family in the evening was a rare occurrence, but it was known to happen sometimes. At one of these meals we served the basic chicken, rice, and a side dish of vegetables. I ate all my chicken and rice, but sat at the table and refused to eat my peas. At one point, my mom left the table (everyone else had long since finished their meal and went their way). In her absence, I proceeded to take the salt shaker and pour it over the peas, delightedly announcing, "It's raining! It's raining!"

When mom came back to the table, she told me I still had to eat them. Foiled! I was certain that because the peas were now ruined, I wouldn't have to eat them! Alas, it was not the case.

So I sat at the table, staring at my plate... for hours. Finally, as the crickets chirped persistently from the backyard, my mom had had enough. I was allowed to leave the table under two conditions: 1) I would not have dessert, and 2) I would not eat anything until breakfast. That was all fine and dandy with me--it was probably past my bedtime at this point, anyway.

Now, before you get too harsh on my mom, let me tell you this.

I never ate fruit or vegetables until this summer.

Even through most of my college career, I refused to even try new things.

Sometimes, I could force myself to eat an apple when there was nothing else available (aka, I'm out in the wilderness running out of energy and my neighbor has a spare). On an even rarer occasion, I would have a banana (aka, low blood sugar makes me pass out and someone force-feeds it to me). Never willingly, and never cheerfully.

Vegetables were an even less common occurrence. I would eat corn one kernel at a time and gag on each and every piece. The stories I could tell here... but I'll spare you. This post is already long enough. :-)

Then this summer, something shocking happened.

I spent the summer in Zimbabwe, the land of nothing. Literally, there is no food on the shelves in the grocery stores. It has become a trading economy--one lady I stayed with received her rent in sugar.

So I would eat my carbs and starches (I'd cut back considerably on plain sweets since entering college) and small portions of meat. I wouldn't even serve myself vegetables, because I knew I wouldn't eat them and that would be rude. Yet I was still perceived as offensive.

My mom raised me to be polite. It's all about etiquette. You must act like a lady. We sing praises to Miss Manners. Okay, maybe not bad, but you get the idea. I was doing everything I knew to go above and beyond expectations. And then one day my boss apologizes to me--he was offended that I didn't eat vegetables.

But I was eating everything on my plate! I wasn't getting huge portions and throwing away food! I wasn't even eating a lot of meat (which is extremely expensive, if it's even available)! How could he be OFFENDED?! I was going out of my way to be so sensitive to the culture!

I have never knowingly offended anyone in my life. I'm sure there have been times when someone was offended by my words or actions, but I never heard about it. This is the first time I've been aware of being offensive. And it's not a one time thing. It's not like I said something and I can just make a point to not say it again. It's the way I live. My life is offensive.

At first, I respected this person for even admitting it, and then having the guts to apologize to me. And I still respect him. But then I started to get angry that he was even offended in the first place! "How dare he!" my pride said. That lasted about 2 minutes, and then I lost it.

I haven't cried that hard in a long time. I don't like vegetables. It's a texture thing. Tough on the outside, slimy on the inside... who enjoys that, really? I mean, really? I can't do it.

But I'm in their country, not America, "Land of Plenty." It's not going to kill me to eat vegetables. I can do it, even if I don't want to. And I should. If I know that my not eating vegetables is going to offend my friends, then I cannot justify not eating vegetables. It's not beneficial.

So I did. I ate them. I forced myself.

I also still ate my carbs and the occassional meat. But I added in vegetables. I ate salad. Quite a bit of it. Not too shabby, come to find out!

And now, I'm hooked. I love them. I am in love with squash. I don't think you quite got that, so I'm going to type it again. I am in love with squash. Yellow squash, green squash, butternut squash, I love it all. I'm still not a fan of raw tomatoes (texture), but they are divine cooked. Bell peppers are also especially pleasing. Carrots don't really have a taste, so as long as they're not too crunchy, bring it on!

I still don't like corn. It's like celery--in and out, no purpose.

I ate so much fruit in Botswana that when we got back to Zim (where there is no food, much less fresh fruit), I craved it. The group we were with loaded us up on sweets and I felt sick. I used to eat nothing but sweets, and now all I wanted was a banana, nasty after-taste and all!

So recently I was enjoying some quality fellowship with some new friends one night over dinner when the topic of my former vegetable hatred comes up. There's a spinach salad on the table, and my new friend asks me, "Do you like spinach?"

"I don't know!" I reply, excited. Do I?!

So I pick up a leaf and shove it in my mouth.

She likes it, Mikey! She really likes it!

And that's when I realized--there's all SORTS of stuff out there for me to try now! Sure, asparagus smells like bum, but what does it taste like? Everyone raves about my aunt's broccoli and cheese casserole (which I stayed away from because it contained the dreaded green ingredient), and now I'm so thankful for Thanksgiving because I get to try it! Avocado is amazing! I would eat those peas now! And does anyone out there know how to cook eggplant? It's like a whole new world has been opened up to me!

I know most people went through this in junior high, so thank you for reading my novella about vegetables. This has been a long time coming. When I told my mom, she cried. :-) Bless that woman; she's so cute.

Food for thought (hehe): The other day I was cutting up God's gift to mankind (squash) and I was struck by how creative God is. Think about all the things you eat. Chicken, eggs, wheat, squash, beans, carrots, strawberries, bananas, pineapple, watermelon, asparagus, coconuts, avocado, animals, plants, small, large, green, yellow, orange, red, purple, smooth, bumpy, hairy, soft, hard, long and skinny, spherical, ... banana...shaped.... OUR GOD IS SO CREATIVE! There is no way I could've come up with all those different combinations. He's so cool... :-)

I can't believe I just wrote that much on vegetables.

Fear and Snot

"The Lord is my light and my salvation--
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life--
of whom shall I be afraid?
When evil men advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.

One thing I ask of the Lord,
this is what I seek;
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to seek Him in His temple.
For in the day of trouble
He will keep me safe in His dwelling;
He will hide me in the shelter of His tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
Then my head will be exalted
above the enemies who surround me;
at His tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make music to the Lord.

Hear my voice when I call, O Lord;
be merciful to me and answer me.
My heart says of you, 'Seek His face!'
Your face, Lord, I will seek.
Do not hide Your face from me,
do not turn Your servant away in anger;
You have been my helper.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.
Though my father and mother forsake me,
the Lord will receive me.
Teach me Your way, O Lord;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.
Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.

I am still confident of this;
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord."

Psalm 27

And now for something less profound:

I think I have discovered a reason why I have trouble falling asleep at night. I don't know why it never occurred to me before, but I think last night I finally put two and two together.

Every night when I lie down to sleep, I get all cuddled up in my five million pillows, pull the blanket up to my chin, get all snuggly and settled. But if I stayed that way I would die. I can't breathe! Every night I have to sit back up in bed and blow my nose to clear the airways. Then I have to position myself in bed just right so that I can actually breathe. By the morning, I can sleep however I want and have no trouble breathing at all. But getting started... hoo boy. Who knew sleeping was so dangerous?!

Now, it's no secret that I inherited the earwax genes. I have to clean out my ears every other day. If I don't, I am probably reading your lips instead of actually hearing what you are saying. I theorize that I also inherited the snot gene.

My sister had allergies growing up, and there were always minor architectural mounds made of Kleenex at key locations around the house: next to the television, in the bathroom, next to the phone, in the seat of the recliner. We joked that she had the snot gene.

When I am crying and someone hands me one Kleenex, it almost makes me laugh. I mean, seriously? Who can use just one?! Not me... three, at least. And that's if I am really maximizing the space of the Kleenex. After watching my sister all these years, I have it down to an art. You can fold it over at least 3 times, and then use the outside to wipe any remaining residue. Then repeat (x 12).

So apparently I also inherited the snot gene. It has manifested itself in a different way, which I assume is why I never made the connection before. She had allergies; I can't breathe at night. Somehow I feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick on this one...

I'm getting old enough, though, to realize that my mother, my sister and I are all basically the same person. They have skinny ankles and long calves; so do I. They have the snot gene; so do I. And the other day, I did in fact find one random long hair under my chin. *shudder* Good thing my mom and my sister also happen to be absolutely amazing ladies (and quite beautiful, too, at that).

Side Note: My sister eventually grew out of her allergies, has an impeccable fashion sense, has a very sweet and patient husband, the most adorable puppy EVER, and I love her very much. :-)

Branches

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5

A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him--
the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and of power,
the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord--
and he will delight in the fear of the Lord. Isaiah 11:1-3a

[emphasis mine]

Jumpin' on the bandwagon

I struggle with writing blogs. I never feel like my words are adequate. And it's true; they're not. So I'll begin my new blog by writing someone else's words. :-)

"In my distress I called to the Lord,
and He answered me.
From the depths of the grave I called for help,
and You listened to my cry.
You hurled me into the deep,
into the very heart of the seas,
and the currents swirled about me;
all Your waves and breakers
swept over me.
I said, 'I have been banished
from Your sight;
yet I will look again
toward Your holy temple.'
The engulfing waters threatened me,
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my head,
To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But You brought my life up from the pit,
O Lord my God.

When my life was ebbing away,
I remembered You, Lord,
and my prayer rose to you,
to Your holy temple.

Those who cling to worthless idols
forfeit the grace that could be theirs.
But I, with a song of thanksgiving,
will sacrifice to You.
What I have vowed I will make good.
Salvation comes from the Lord."

And the Lord commanded the fish,
and it vomited Jonah onto dry land.

Jonah 2:2-10 [emphasis mine]