Pillars of salt stop running

I'm in such a fog. I usually have a mental priority list, a plan of action, a reason to stay busy, but lately --I just feel --unmotivated. Should I pack? Should I work on the house? Should I work on homework? Should I visit with friends? Should I go to bed and hope it makes better sense in the morning?

A treasured friend asked me last night what I'm running from. I didn't expect that, and I didn't know how to answer, but nor did I dismiss it. I have some insightful friends, and they often see my shortfalls before I do.

IF I am running, perhaps it's from routine, or from pointlessness, or from materialism, or from conformity, or from temptation, or from worldly responsibilities, or from my heritage, or from the fear of regret.

On the other hand, perhaps, instead of from something, I am running to it. It could be to confront my past, or to find God's will, or to a greater purpose, or to protect my kids, or to help my parents, or to have an adventure, or to prepare for the mission God has for me.

Could it be all the above, and --is that wrong? --Maybe it will make sense in the morning.

Update

It's been a couple weeks since my last post... life's getting a little crazy, so this is going to be brief. I noticed a couple of post back I was thanking God for our many blessings; well, as life goes, it looks like I'm going to have to give most of them back, so to speak.

Yes, the rumors are true (that is, the ones I've heard). The Menefees are planning to move to KY this summer. The Lord is opening opportunities for me to attend Asbury College & Seminary.

Our biggest snags at this point (apart from leaving friends) is finding a home for our dog, Freddy, and selling the house. I thought I had a buyer last week, but that fell through. It looks like I will have a renter until the house sells, so that should help.

By the way, my summer trip to Asia is fully funded! God is so good and faithful; I'm really looking forward to the adventure, this summer and beyond.

I had better get back to the homework. TTFN

Is a portrait still a portrait if you look at it from the backside?

I came home from class yesterday, and Keen was setting at the computer in the living-room. He promptly looked up and excitedly told me about how a complete stranger came up to him after his basketball game and shook his hand. The man highly complemented him and told him that he has what it takes to be in the pros! With that, Keen turned back to the computer and stated, with a hint of remorse, "My life in the NFL is over."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before reading this next story, one should know that we just painted the house a few months ago.

Keen brought in the mail this evening, and as he was announcing each item, he read the bold print on the Sears envelop, "Brian Menefee, never paint your house again!" Kendra spoke up, in a voice of disgust, "How rude! What? Do they think you didn't do a good enough job?"

Perspective

I was late for work this morning, because the silly "foster dog" got loose twice (anybody want a free, golden husky? I'm not joking). Then, we spent most of the work day blowing insulation in an attic. Since I was already filthy, I decided to clean the loft of the barn when I got home. I tried to burn some of our huge brush and lumber pile, but it was too wet. Then, I worked until twilight digging 8 fence-post holes. Of course, a Home Depot trip had to be worked in to the day, so I picked up over 600 pound of concrete. Finally, I got the last load of dirty (and wet, due the the flooded basement) laundry is in the washer. I just realised; I missed supper.

Thank You, Lord, for... the low-stress job, the dirty barn, the rain, the brush pile (for hot dogs and marshmallows), the health to do manual labor, the new fence, a basement, clothes to get dirty (and the kids that dirty them), and... my ice cream :o)

Learning to step into other worlds

Today offered a unique adventure. Tawnya Smith and I visited the Hindu Temple for their Monday morning service. They were very hospitable and encouraged our questions. It was all so strange to us; we didn't know what to ask. The experience alone was educational. It was a hour of foreign chants and rituals that simply fascinated me. I figure, their gods must have short attention spans, because they kept having to repeat themselves so much.

The comic relief came when, in mid-service, a woman scolded what seemed to be the head priest for cutting the chants too short. "This used to take an hour, and that was only 30 minutes. I don't know what you did to it, but you need to keep going." I guess she didn't feel like she was getting her money's worth. Can you imagine someone speaking up in one of our services, "Pastor, your prayer and sermon were too short; keep going." (Ouch! That's not so comical anymore...now I'm convicted.)

The silly, God-like irony though was the obvious, big, red zit that I had between my eyebrows.

Saturday priority problems

I searched all day for my inspiration to clean the house. I never did find it. Perhaps it's under the pile of papers on my desk or in the heap of coats on the chair. It couldn't have possibly found its way into the dishwasher, could it?

I shouldn't say, really, that I searched all day. I gave up rather early on, and the thought of it simply hunted me all day. Instead, I fled to Home Depot and spent more of my tax return. There really ought to be a support group for that, or a 12 step program of some kind. No, better yet, 3 steps (I'm easily lost or distracted).

Stop reading between the lines; I can't think that fast

It seems there are phases of life that have themes. The phase may last a few days, weeks, or even months; it's like God's trying to teach me something specific. The theme for now seems to be worldviews and the art of communicating between them. It's amazing how you can live, work and/or worship with someone and realize you have completely different perspectives on the same issue or situation.

I found myself in a one-on-one conversation with a friend today, and it was as if they where having a completely different conversation (Note: I have learned not to make negative stereotypes of the entire opposite gender, BUT one has to admit that this social anomaly occurs most often when I'm talking to one of them). By the end, she was in tears and I was speechless (or perhaps I should say, I was afraid to open my mouth again).