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The Next Batch

There is a storm blowing in. I have the living room windows and sliding glass door in the kitchen open. I've been sitting in my recliner reading as the cool air gets sucked through the house. I love this time of year. I love open windows and fresh air streams. I try to imagine what a layer of smoke would look like being drawn across my more than pudgy frame. It makes me laugh. Perhaps I am round to reduce friction loss and/or wind resistance? That's it. I am not fat. I am a science experiment in domestic aerodynamics.

I had the makings of a migraine from hell today, so I amped myself up on caffeine and gave myself my weekly vitamin B12 shot. I may never sleep again, but when I do, I will crash hard. I wish I could condense this energy into a laser like focus and actually accomplish any of the 15 or so tasks I am juggling. I am easily distractable when I am this wired. First I thought it would be great to clean out the freezer and in doing so I found some chicken that was still good but needed to be cooked. I stopped what I was doing and pulled out the crock pot to throw together what I call refrigerator stew. Whatever is in the fridge goes into the pot. Then I realized I still hadn't put away some things on the kitchen table that have been there for days. Why hadn't I just done it? Oh yeah, I started boxing them up but needed tape. Now is as good a time as any to take care of that. On the way to get the tape from the laundry room I realized I hadn't pulled the last load out of the dryer and folded it. I started folding laundry when I noticed the wastebasket was full and it reminded me that tomorrow morning is garbage day. I stopped folding laundry and started gathering up the trash to take it out to the curb. As I was gathering trash I wondered if any of the food in the freezer was beyond being edible, and, well, you get the picture. A complete cycle of incomplete tasks.

During the whole time I was doing the "too much energy and not enough focus" jig I had an interesting inner monologue going. Perhaps that's not the right term for it. I was talking to myself and praying. Sort of. Does it count as prayer if you are just thinking random thoughts and assuming God is eavesdropping? I mean, I start out talking to Him and the next thing I know I am just talking. "Oh, and I need to put together a kit so when I go out as a volunteer for disaster relief I will have things like bandages, over-the-counter drugs, and stuff. Where do you suppose I am going to come up with that money? Oh and how am I going to afford to kennel the dogs and drive myself to wherever it is? What was I thinking? I can't do this? Did You really want me involved in disaster relief? I am a walking disaster. Disaster, relieve thyself is what I should be saying...."

I wonder if we all sound like junior high school students to God. Our thoughts and hearts going in every random direction at once, kind of like a fart in a skillet. Unlike God I don't have much patience for anyone, including myself, when they are like this. That's something I should work on. Meanwhile the caffeine is wearing off.

God's mercies are new every morning. I am looking forward to my new batch of grace and grateful for this one.

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