Another item on my calendar for the week was to spend 24 hours at this. I needed to blast home after work on Friday, eat something and get there in time to start. It wasn't easy though. First, I obediently sent my money earlier in the month to the appropriate address and checked that little to-do off my list and had peace of mind; all I needed to do was to show up. Not to be, as the envelope found its way back to my mailbox: Undeliverable. Huh? I checked, sure enough I addressed it correctly. It took me another week to follow up on the address problem, and by then I only had time to make sure it was okay to just bring it with me. Make another note to remember the envelope when I go.
Enter into the window of last week and I was expecting something like directions to this thing. However, being busy and all, it occurred to me about Thursday I hadn't heard a word. My first reaction was to get angry. That's how it works in my brain. The next reaction is to play the mental gymnastics game that flips from one thought to the other:
"You don't have time to go there, in fact, it would be a relief to not hear anything and you can have your weekend back, and hold someone else responsible for not letting you know. This kind of event is really for people more biblically mature than yourself, more able to understand and take in the knowledge; more worthy."
I was not to be let off the hook and did actually receive some form of information at about 9:30p.m. Mountain Standard Time, a half hour before my bedtime goal, Thursday evening. Now I had a new thing to be angry about; "What? I need to prepare for this event? Fine, now I don't have time to prepare! This is not going smooth at all. See? I really am not supposed to go."
I left work early to be able to round up my things in time to drive there. I felt rushed, delinquent, lacking and miffed. Then I had a new thing to be miffed about: No, there were not balloons marking the gate on this dark, country, dirt road in the middle on nowwhere. However the house was lit up like Las Vegas on a moonless night. I drove in, and it appeared to be the right place; in fact I walked in to ask the first person I saw in this building in the middle of nowhere if this is where all these people are meeting for this event. I felt pushed and pulled and ready to cry. Okay, so I did.
I settled down, settled in and we began. I can't regurgitate details of my 24 hours. I can relay my foremost lesson. What I have been ingesting - that is: eating - is my daily craziness: this unfulfilling, lightning speed, no room for error, no room on the calendar life I call mine. There is no nutrition, just calories. Calories that make me cry from feeling angry that there were no balloons on the gate. Calories that make me feel that I shouldn't be at a place where God shows up. Calories that make me feel this overburdening Apathy. God-breathed words are nutrition dense.
Eat Vegetables - Clear Skin. Eat Pop Tarts - Pimples. Apathy Acne.
Eat your vegetables. Ingest God-breathed words.
That was an awesome post. I needed that reminder. Especially today. Thanks, friend. I'm glad it was goodness.
Posted by: Stephanie | Jan 30, 2008 at 03:45 PM
Great post Donna. I've heard that GWO makes your head spin and is a very intense and unforgettable experience!
Posted by: carol ann | Jan 31, 2008 at 05:41 PM