Journal 2017

The Christmas rush is over, the company is gone, and I’ve had several weeks of solitude and down time, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of the slower pace. It feels decadent, however, to recline in my easy chair with a book, start a jigsaw puzzle, or type entries into a blog. Why do I feel guilty for having fun, doing what I enjoy most?

Some part of my heart rises up to protest that I haven’t advanced my goals, completed a check list, accomplished more for the kingdom. This Guardian is the keeper of my lists, my schedule, the shoulds and what-ifs. This one needs some serious Jesus time!

Visual: I grip a silver platter containing a curly leaf of lettuce, a piece of candy, some fruit, some chocolate bars, a mug of coffee, a wooden ruler, and some stinky dog poop tied up in a sachet bag with a bow. (This one certainly doesn’t belong on the tray. How did that get there?) In the bag are all the shoulds and musts and words from other people dumped into a stinky heap. I don’t want to touch it. Jesus doesn’t want it either, so we double bag it and carry it out to the garbage can and spray some fresh scent in the air—light and breezy. We also don’t need the ruler or the dressing-less lettuce.

What’s next? Now the tray begins to overflow with fresh fruits and vegetables, but I can still see the desserts peeking out. Then meats of all kind crowd onto the plate. It’s starting to get overloaded, overwhelming, a mishmash of food that turns into a gloppy mess.

“Jesus, can we start over?” I ask. I liked it better when there was less on the platter: one pretty salad or a juicy slice of watermelon or a single square of chocolate.

Jesus just smiles. “I’ve been giving you just what you need these past weeks to prepare for the next. Enjoy the dessert. Savor it. Remember it. And trust Me to serve you what your body needs next.”