Thoughts from an introvert.

I came home from church exhausted. In more ways than one. I had attended the early service and I never do that. Normally, I wait and go to the 11:15 service because it gives me time to enjoy my morning, get ready, etc. etc. Well, we had a little beast join our home about a month ago, and he looks very much like a miniature golden doodle puppy. In fact, he is. And to date, he is the love our lives. (No, we don't have kids yet and no, we don't love our dog more than each other), but you get the point. We have a puppy. And puppies take time and energy! And more than that, I did NOT realize that you might as well have a feeding schedule similar to a newborn, because now, I have to get up EARLY. And that depresses me! So, because of this new little transition in our lives, I decided that I might as well get up with the little being and go on with my day productively instead of wasting my morning trying to go back to sleep in between barks and bites. Hence the early service. So I get ready and barely make it out the door on time (and I don't even have the "mom of five children" excuse yet-- I just have the "mom of dog" excuse... which i've never heard used as an excuse. oh well). But somehow I manage to get to church at the tail end of my hubby's song that he is leading. Sadly, I'm actually proud that I made it during the last five phrases so that i can honestly tell him that I made it for his song and that he sounded good. (Yes, even worship leaders wonder if they sound good). So, as I take my seat with a large handful of our friends, I finally settle in enough to touch the presence of God. And, boy, do I love it. Then the handshaking time comes and I see my Dad on the front row... so I go say hi to him and then feel a little bad that I can't sit with him (I am a hopeless golden retriever personality with the accompanying qualities to go with it, even though I know my dad could care less). Nevertheless, I finally take my seat again. Ok, I am settled. I can listen. Finally. The sermon is great. All about family. Reminds me of the wonderful home i was brought up in. So I shoot my dad a text about how much the story of chaotic family devotions sounds just like our food-fighting devotional times growing up. Then I feel slightly guilty that I texted in church.. who saw me? Oh well, who cares. I'm letting this one go. Tune in again. At last, the wonderful sermon is over. It's time to greet new friends and talk to old ones. Then Seth runs up and says that he saw a girl raise her hand to receive Christ and that he felt like I should go talk to her. Well, I thought that he just wanted me to go with him to talk to her since he didn't want to do it by himself and needed a female to accompany him. But of course, a few minutes later, we're both standing there participating in shallow conversations when I realize that I had misread my cue because he is shooting me that "confused, slightly disappointed" look. Apparently, I had missed my divine appointment. Ok, now I'm feeling like a spiritual failure. The only hope now is to run for the decaf coffee and pat myself on the back that I chose decaffeinated! Lord knows I could use more than a shot of caffeine in this moment!! So right as I'm getting my DECAF coffee, I visit with another wonderful couple about potentially coming to our small group, but everything in me wants to simply tell them that, surely, I will have it more together on Thursday night. Because as we're talking to them, all my mind can think about is how we're gonna get my leaky tire patched up after church! I apparently zone off and leave my friend talking with my husband who then shyly just waves goodbye. Because clearly, I was checked out. Classy. Ugh, at this point, I give up. Where is my head?? In between the conversations and coffee, my head is also on my precious grandmother who is dying and who has now been told that this go around probably is truly the end. I called yesterday, in fact, just to make sure that my aunt could save some sentimental odds and ends for me that were my grandmother's. At this point, I could break down. But there's no time to because my husband is staring me in the face saying, "Ok, well you're coffee buzz has kicked in (he totally overlooked the decaf choice!) and you're totally zoned so just meet me at the tire and lube place after church." Right. Ok, I will. So I walk out in the rain with my coffee in hand and I finally get in my car. The car ride home was actually slightly peaceful and therapeutic, once i got past all the thoughts of who I'd forgotten to talk to at church or shoved off during the meet and greet. Finally, I make it in the door. And there my precious puppy-beast is, greeting me with sleepy smiles and refreshed behavior. I take him outside for a potty and, of course, he doesn't go. But at least he's behaving. I sit down at my computer, ready to browse something or at least get a few mindless minutes to myself when I realize that I'm reaching for the only chocolate i can find in the house-- semi-sweet chocolate chips. And I down half the bag. Ok, at this point, I stop and realize that something else is going on inside of me more than the need for an entire bag of semi-sweet morsels (why do they call them morsels anyway when they know you're gonna eat the entire rest of the bag??). Something is tired. Something is frustrated. Something is reaching for something more. Something is craving fulfillment. Something inside of me is longing to get to a deeper, more introspective place and it just simply can't be found in the chocolate chips. I realized it was a need for time spent with the One who life is all about. To actually spend time with the One who we run all our ministry meetings for and host coffee conversations about. Had I let him know this week in spite of all the craziness that I love HIM, not just that he loves me? And that I desire and crave to get into his presence and touch his face and let all of his "oks" calm my "not-enoughs"? I put down the bag of chocolate chips (that I was LITERALLY inhaling) and sit down just for a few minutes to ponder. To think upon him. To think about what I've been thinking about all week in between the red lights and errands... that He is virtually the One thing in the world that is absolute. That He NEVER fails. That He ALWAYS is present. That He is EVER lasting. That He is CONSTANT. That He NEVER leaves. That His love is EVERLASTING. That NEVER ONCE have we ever walked alone... There is not one person on the face of this earth that we can ascribe these absolutes to and yet he is the one that we spend the LEAST amount of time with. It reminds me of that disciple, wiry and rough around the edges that made a profound declaration to the Christ after being asked if he loved Him , "Lord, to whom else would i go???" And so it is. To whom else shall we or could we go? He's it. Amidst our busy schedules and noble purposes FOR him, He. Is. It. Do we stop to be introspective and to quiet all the craziness in order to co-exist with the one who is NEVER chaotic? I suddenly found myself raising my hands from a kitchen counter bar stool and lifting my head to the heavens and singing with the most powerful form, "You are faithful, God, You are faithful... Never once did we ever walk alone." Over and over and over and over again. In my messy, brand-new kitchen, with dishes already piled high and caramel completely hardened on the counter from the night-before's carameled apples. There was I. Breathing in and out for the first time in weeks. Saying it over and over and over again. In and out. In and out. "You are faithful." Inhale. "You are faithful." Exhale. "God, You are Faithful." Inhale. "You are faithful." Exhale. The dog even settled down and looked at me as if I was half crazy/half amazing. And that right there is what I want my kids to see one day. That their momma had time to lift her eyes up to the heavens and breathe Him in and out in the midst of carameled counters and everything else. That He is it, after all. And that if we don't make time to be His loves, we will never be satisfied with the intoxication of that which is highly possibly and ONLY satisfying. There we are again, faced head-on with the fact that He is the ONLY thing that can ever be totally satisfying. And if we tap into earlier rather than later, we might just eat a few less chocolate chips and have a few more enjoyable days in spite of the piled laundry and endless errands. And then we might even be ok when his timing and purposes sometimes bring what appears to be death or postponement or disappointment. We will just look our heavy heart towards the heavens, breathing out the only thing we know to breathe, "You are faithful, God. You. are. faithful." And after the music's stopped, we will still be breathing... Because it's all we know to do. My phone beeped with a message. It was Seth, and I needed to be at the tire and lube center in 10 minutes. The caramel was still on the kitchen counter. And my next stop that I, still, would rather not run awaited me. But my heart was full. I had found time to look upon His face in the cracks of my schedule. The frustrations waned a little bit. And I felt like I had pushed the "water" button on the refrigerator drink dispenser of my soul. Perhaps that's why He says we need to be "continually filled, praying always." In and out. In and out. Breathing.