On this little weekend trip that Scott and I took a couple of weeks ago, one particular night we ate at a local restaurant known not only for the amazing food, but more so for the quantity of food. We left the restaurant miserable. As we were driving back to the hotel, I mentioned that I needed to go walk or something in order to feel better. This came up in conversation right as we passed a Wal-mart. Scott suggested we just go walk around the store until we felt better. This idea was genius and one reason why I keep him around. As we were getting out of the car, I was focused on a meaningful walk through the aisles of Wal-mart. I described to Scott how we would attack the store one aisle at a time at a strong walking pace. I left my purse in the car, cued up my watch to track our steps, and began marching off our plan. About isle two, the distractions started. We were pacing through the pharmacy section when I remembered we were about out of toothpaste. I was able to grab the toothpaste without hardly slowing down. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning of the distractions. We spent several minutes picking out a magazine. The kitchen gadget isle was extremely captivating. I’m too embarrassed to tell you how much time we spent in the Christmas section. By then, our pace and plan were gone and in reality, our hands were too full from the random items we were carrying to walk anyway. While our little walk did help, it also cost us over $60. to get out of the store. Thank goodness at least Scott had his wallet. The second reason I keep him around.
How does this relate to my Christian walk? Almost exactly step for step. First, I feel moved by something I read in my devotion time or hear a powerful message that inspires me. I feel the Spirit developing this strong action plan in my heart, and I work to put it into action. Let the distractions begin. This blog is one example. I’m going to write a blog once a week was my original plan. Right now I’m lucky to get out one a month. Sometimes it is as simple as a quickening in my spirit that I need to call a friend or send them a text. The thoughts are there, the plans are there, but the action is delayed or devoured by distractions. I’m telling you even doing the dishes can be a distraction. I’m going to set down and write on an upcoming blog, but I don’t because I have dishes to do. Maybe I’m going to commit extra money to a missions project this month. Oh, I can’t even begin to list all of the distractions that can thwart this plan.
Luke 14 contains a parable that tells of a man hosting a great supper or a feast. This man sent out many invitations well in advance as was the custom. Then the day of the feast the servant went out to announce the start of the meal, but those invited all faced distractions. One had a new bride, one had new property and one had new oxen. All of these distractions were placed as a priority over the feast. As you know from this familiar story, the master sent the servant out to find other guest. What I fear is, just as the original invitees, we can easily be distracted and place priorities above what God has called us to do or what He has planned for us. I don’t know why it seems hard to accept, but not doing what we know to do is just as much of a sin as the sins we so publicly denounce such as affairs or stealing. “Therefore, to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin.” James 4:7.
I pray as I write this that I can keep my focus on what God has placed in my heart and make Him a priority in my life.
Just recently Scott and I took a weekend road trip. For the majority of the trip, Scott was driving, and I took on the role of navigator. This is not my strongest skill. Don’t get me wrong. I’m great at giving directions. It’s just that my directions are not always great. I would put the destination into Google maps and off we would go until I thought I had a better plan than what was on the map. One time I told Scott to head down the highway for fifty some miles until we came to Hwy 271. In my mind I knew our destination is south or left of our current location. As we approached Hwy 271, it was a right hand turn or north. I told Scott to keep going because that couldn’t be the correct turn. Yes, we got to make a u-turn in about 5 miles and go back to the turn the map told us to take. The road only went north for a few miles before it headed back south. Another time, we were on a 4 lane highway with one-way side roads on each site. I had directions to the hotel pulled up on the map, but it was taking us way past the hotel and entering in on the back side of the hotel. As we approached the hotel, I could see it and there was an exit. I yelled for Scott to exit, he slammed on the breaks and headed for the exit. What do you know, we couldn’t get to the hotel from that exit without hopping over a couple of curbs and driving though the grass. My sudden change in plans took us to another highway and almost landed us on a turnpike headed out of town.
Hurd in Edmond which is something we have enjoyed in the past. There are about 30 food trucks with greasy unhealthy food and a couple of live bands. This is right up Scott’s alley and the perfect way to end a birthday. What I forgot to take into account was the fact that we were starving from working all day and now Scott was not only faced with making a menu selection, but first he had to choose a food truck. If you know Scott, these food choices do not come easily. See, I should know this. I sit with him in the drive-through line as he mulls over the Wendy’s menu, the one that hasn’t changed in years, for what seems like an eternity as the kind worker awaits his decision. Sometimes they even come back on the speaker to make sure we are still there.
I don’t know why it is, but stopping to get gas seems like such a waste of time. It is a task I put off to the very last minute. Partly because I have places to go, and partly because I want to get the most out of my fill-up by trying to create as much time as possible between stops. I have literally coasted into the filling station a few times. Once I I was concentrating so hard on just getting to the pump, I forgot to think about what side my tank was on. After I shut the engine off, I couldn’t get it to start again. I had to get some help to push my car to the other side of the pump.
One of our favorite family pastimes is to play cards. I have so many memories as a child playing cards with my family. My dad was quite the card player. He could tell you any card that had been picked up and was certain to let you know if you weren’t paying attention and played into someone’s hand. We had the most laughs at the expense of my sister. She would pick up any face card whether it went with her hand or not. She just couldn’t let one pass by.
nights I’m home and to pack a lunch for Scott and I Monday thru Thursday. Last Tuesday, I roasted a chicken in the Instant Pot for dinner and then for our lunches, I took the chicken we didn’t eat to make chicken salad sandwiches. I have done this successfully in the past. I simply put the leftover pieces of chicken in the Ninja, grind them up, add some pecans, grapes and dressing – voila, chicken salad. I’m telling you, the sandwiches looked devine as I packed them in our lunch bags for the next day. However looks can be deceiving.
Last week there was the rare event where Scott and I had a quiet night at home. As we were sitting in the living room watching some basketball game, I began quizzing Scott with questions from a FB quiz. After finding out what annoys him most and what makes him proud, we began talking about our “love languages.” This is a conversation we had several times when dating and many times with our children as they were going through their marriage counseling. Our Love Languages are almost in direct conflict with each other. Scott enjoys quality time together while I enjoy acts of service. In other words, I want us to be doing something (working on my “to do” list) and Scott likes to just sit and visit. Scott is great about helping me and doing things for me. I’m still working on sitting still and just spending time together.
Every three months Scott and I make the trek to the El Reno Cemetery to change the flowers on Jeff’s grave. It is a routine we have down to an art. When we were there the first week in September changing the summer flowers out for the fall flowers, we noticed several new graves in the area. We were back again the first week in December changing out the fall flowers for the winter flowers. As part of our normal routine, we were checking out the new neighbors as many of them had headstones up by now. Anyway, the whole time we were there, an elderly man was puttering around at one of the newer graves. He was making the motions of rearranging the flowers on the grave, but really never moving anything. I couldn’t stand it any longer and had to go over and talk to him. It was clear as I approached and looked at the new headstone, he was standing at his wife’s grave. I began the conversation by asking if this was his first Christmas without her. I learned he celebrated their 49th anniversary in November with out her and many other first that 
happen during the infamous year of first that happens after the death of a loved one. After we talked for several minutes, he asked me what I’m sure appeared to be the obvious questions, “is this your parent’s grave?” He was surprised to hear that it was my husband’s, but I pointed out Scott, who had been standing there the whole time. I said, “Look, God gave me a new one.” That created quite a laugh and then we were able to talk about living life after the loss of a loved one.
The last two weeks have been a little crazy in my head. There have been times I wondered who was living up there because it couldn’t be me. I’m normally very rational and level headed. Strangely the week started out with a full out fit of self-pity. As I prayed one night, I literally made out a list of all the favors, sacrifices and jobs I was doing for others and asked God when someone was going to do something for me. Now, as I type this, it seems utterly ridiculous. But at that time, that night, it was real. I was spent and emotionally exhausted. First, I want to say, I am so thankful for a loving Lord who doesn’t mock the nonsense of such complaints, but instead wraps his arms around me and provides comfort.
View From My Shoes 