Tuesday, October 22, 2013

defeat?

Yes.
I know I have it good. My cup of blessings are overflowing.

I know I take too much for granted, and that I really have little excuse for this feeling.
My list of responsibility is short.

But life is wearing me down.
I can't do it.
I don't want to.
I feel like a petulant child or a lazy slug.

But maybe that's the point.
I can't keep this up.
I'm filled with dread and defeat. A taste of failure and I feel I've failed at everything.

I need priority.
I need focus.

I need rejuvenation.

I think all of this, all of my feelings of utter inadequacy are to remind me to draw near to my power source, to the one who promises He is with me always, even to the end of the world.
The one who promises that His yoke is easy and His burden light.

The one who reminds me I am to work at things wholeheartedly, as if it is for Him.
The one who tells me I'm even more than a conqueror in Him.  

You'd think I'd learn my lesson and remember that my identity is supposed to be Christ. My power source is Christ.

All things through Him and by Him.

I'm a slow learner.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Fall break 2013

It was Saturday, a day calling for 0% rain, warm weather and a good football game.
It had misted all day. The sky was grey and overcast. My dad and I had attended a football game and were trudging back to my car from the stadium.
To avoid the $20 parking costs, we had parked about 3/4 of a mile away from the arena.

As we walked back from the game, I checked my pockets to fish out my keys.

They weren't there.

No need to panic though.

I checked my purse.

The purse yielded nothing.
I hadn't yet reached full-panic mode. I asked my dad if he had the keys on him, I could have handed them off. It was very possible.

Nothing.

Now I started to worry. We were already halfway to the car, and I had no idea where my keys were. I was just in a stadium milling with thousands of other people. The route we had walked from the car was closed off, so there was no option of retracing my steps.

I hoped against hope that my keys would be near the car, that I had dropped them within a 10 yard radius of the car. As we approached, my mind was racing. When did I have my purse open? At what point could the keys have fallen out?
I spotted my car and ran to it. I peered into the cab. Everything looked normal, no keys in the ignition though. I walked in a spiral pattern around my car, scanning the grass. Dad checked the nearby bushes.
And THERE THEY WERE. Dad had found my keys!

Oh, was I thankful.

It was getting progressively darker out, and still misting. I hurriedly tried unlocking the door.
Nothing.
If it wasn't one thing, it was another. My car is "old" (1997 Chevy Lumina), old enough that it doesn't have a remote to unlock it. In fact, it requires 2 keys: one for the door and one for the ignition. I have no idea why this was a thing back in the day, but it was.
I have had some issues before with unlocking the door.
I tried the door again.
...third time's the charm? Nope.
I tried the passenger side.
My car was being such a bother.
My dad examined the key. The teeth were worn down.
Could it be that the few hours in the elements for a had worn them down completely? Had someone filed down the keys and then put them back in the bushes? ...the mind goes to strange places when one is in a panic.

My dad then tried unlocking all of the doors carefully, trying to make sure the tumbler caught the ridges.
The doors wouldn't budge.
We stood back, bemused.

There aren't many tan '97 Chevy Luminas on the road these days. 


After a second, my dad looked at me.


"Makenzie...this is a LeSabre not a Lumina."

I had just spent a good 5 minutes trying to get into a stranger's car.

I am so glad they didn't walk up while I was trying to get into my their car.



It turns out that my car was 5 cars over.

aaaand unlocked no problem.

Then this morning happened. I rode in the back of a sheriffs car all morning.
Kinda long story, and I haven't the time to type it all out properly.
Soon.
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