Room on the Page

Sitting on the breezeway; curled up on the leather chair. Birds chirp outside; air conditioners hum and the woosh of an occassional car drives by the house.

It is a moment to be still--to obtain comfort from voices inside my house without needing to respond nor adhere to the meaning of their sounds.

My have to do list and my want to do list would cascade off even a legal sized page. But in this moment I choose to let those items all slide off. Instead, for a moment, I pretend the page is blank--completely white. And, I ask my God.
"What dear Lord, would you have me put upon that page?"


Why, I wonder, do I fill my page so that there is no room for my Lord to write?

Epiphanies. of the olfactory sort....

The first thing you must understand is that I haven't smelled much of anything...or I could say I have smelled just about absolutely nothing since February of this year. It's this sinus thing that came upon me January 22nd to be exact.

The first line of my journal on that evening--

" A red letter day--and today, I cannot breathe. I find myself mired in this physical difficulty. .....
I am getting closer to my visions and thus the very breath is being sucked out of me."

Dramatic, yes, I know--perhaps a bit. But you must know that air at that point was not getting in nor out through my nostrils. Short of hanging myself upside down from the ceiling, I was trying everything and NOTHING was working! A doctor's visit, sudafed, a call to the nurses hot line and many suggestions later...I could breathe, but I was continuously blowing, sniffling, taking my dosage of sudafed and telling myself--'Not too much longer, this will end.'.

Funny, though, when I think back, I cannot remember when exactly my ability to smell vanished. It was probably during one of the 'stuffed up' episodes when I didn't take too much notice of that one little fact as I concentrated on clearing passages so that I could indeed, breathe.

Food wasn't so much fun either, but hey, I could stand to lose a few. I learned to fend off the comments.."Do you still have that cold?" "What does the doctor say?" Life was busy after all and who has time for such trivialities as 'smell'.

It turned out...I did. Around March, I became weary and missed that I could no longer smell the coffee brewing. Cookies were in the oven and I had to watch the clock more precisely because I didn't catch the "almost done" smell I used to rely on. Showers, shampooing and sudsing up were all now 'senseless' acts. Which shampoo to use? Did it really matter?

Towards the end of March I went to spend a few days with my parents, as I spent time there I realized with great sadness that I was not smelling the fragrant cooking smells often associated with my father's kitchen. I would leave that weekend and have no sweet smelling memories of garlic, bread baking, nor tomato sauce simmering. At such a moment I felt the depth of my loss. It was the Sunday morning before I was to return home that I experienced my first 'smell epiphany'.

We had just finished the noon meal when all of a sudden 'smells' assaulted me and I couldn't quite distinguish them one from another. I began sniffing wildly. To which my father looked at me and said, "What's wrong...? Something smell?" "Oh, yes...something smells! But it's a good smell!" I could smell the tomato sauce, I put a forkful of homemade pasta to my nose and I swear I could even smell the pasta. I picked up my cup of coffee and smelled the richness of the dark roasted coffee beans. I took a slice of the homemade bread and inhaled in the musty smell of yeast and flour. I smelled the cheese, the olives, and even the butter. I believed I had experienced a miracle...but as quickly as it came...sadly, it was gone.

I would have a few more of these experiences in which I would have the luxury of smelling cinnamon, oatmeal, my own perfume, hand cream, bacon frying in hot grease and the musty odor of the garage. I have come to call these moments 'smell epiphanies'. For me they are nothing less than the Alleluia Chorus sung by angels. Unfortunately they last all of about 5 minutes.

Yesterday afternoon, I had another one of these 'epiphanies'. It happened about 3:15 in the afternoon while preparing to frost the 'graduation cupcakes' for our 8th grader. Out of nowhere a scent wafted through my nostrils. It was the sweet smell of warm chocolate from the cupcakes.
It was a moment to grab. Quick! What would I like to smell? I picked up a sandwich half and put it near enough to smell. Interestingly enough, I could dissect the sandwich down to the scent of the lettuce. What next? The roses I purchased for the graduate beckoned to me from their vase. Ohh, such sweetness! I had to go back a couple of times for more. My daughter laughed from her chair on the breezeway as I carried on so. I ran from thing to thing because I didn't know how long this epiphany would last. As always, I smelled the coffee grounds, I smelled a cupcake, the frosting canister, ....what next? Outdoors! I pushed the screen door open, ran to the yard, picked up a pot of dirt...and just wasn't sure if that was a smell or not....tried again...and realized it was over. As quickly as it began, it ended. Sigh.....

There are so many moments in my life, I need to grab and savor...because I just don't really know when they will end. This olfactory problem makes me keenly aware of the importance of the little things. We just can't take them for granted. Life changes and there is indeed a time for everything.

Father, Let me sing while my voice can still carry a tune. Let me hug while loved ones are near. Let me walk the miles my legs allow me to go. Let me send cheerful notes to those who can still open envelopes, and let me give thanks for all the blessings big and small that make a difference in my days.

Vexed Ego

Are you God's Host or your Egos's Hostage?
I heard this phrase once and have used it as a question especially when I have become overly attached to the outcome of my pursuits in terms of how well I did or did not perform. One area in my life where I am very hard on myself is during a scrabble game. ..... Ok, I admit it. I am very competitive. I may not show it outwardly, but I want to win. I want big points for the words I come up with.

One such game was interesting as I relentlessly tried to score high against a friend who is an excellent scrabble player. My trouble on this occasion was that I kept picking low scoring letters along with way too many vowels. So, of course, the big counters just weren't happening. Slowly and oh, so insidiously I became more and more unhappy with my results. Doggone it...what kind of word could I make? Last I checked 'eieio' wasn't really a word outside of McDonald's farm! My friend's score rose by leaps and bounds and mine merely trickled, 10 points here, 8 there and maybe a whopping 15 over here. The more her score accelerated, the more I gagged and fumed over the smoke left in her wake.

And then it came...that silent little voice that often nudges at me. " you can only do the best with what you have" and my bigger, bossier voice said, 'well, if I was worth my weight in letters, I'd be able to come up with something better than this."
(small silent voice) "be reasonable, just do the best you can."
(bossy alter ego) "Well, come on now, I just need a little meat here. something to work with --cut me some slack!"
(small silent voice) "Have you ever thought of the people out there who just do the
best they can--with what they have?"
(bossy alter ego) "What does that have to do with scrabble? Ugh! Would you look at that--another triple letter score!"
(small silent voice) 'sigh'

The game went on- word for word. Once again it was my turn and on my wooden holder stood 3 E's a D, 2 I's and a U. My eyes scanned the board for what little hope I placed in finding a stellar word. And then as if someone turned the light on in heaven, I saw a place to put my precious e and d. On the end of the word 'vex' with the nearby 'go' I could intersect the two and make 'vexed ego'!

Finally some points that mattered. I was thrilled and amazed at how perfectly my two little scorers could work their way in to what I would term as a home run or a touch down! I still had what it took to make a creative play.

(small silent voice) " ...that's what you have.."
(bossy alter ego) " a nice move!"
(small silent voice) "...no, a vexed ego."

As my friend continued to peruse the board for her next move, I went to look up the word 'vex'.

Vex: 2. to torment, trouble, distress, plague, worry.

When I put them together, I stopped dead in my tracks. Here I was so consumed by winning that I placed the value of who I was as a child of God primarily on my ability to get 'high scoring' words. Did I not realize that it wasn't all about 'me'? Did I not realize that in this world sometimes, we can only do the best we can and leave room for the miracles of God to pave the way?

When I put too much stock in my own abilities, I begin to become plaqued and tormented by the worry that I am not enough. I put all my actions under a microscope and continue to disect how I could've done better, faster, and greater. I begin to compare and contrast to the actions of others. I soon become my ego's hostage. I edge God out and I am no longer his host.
My peace is gone. So I turn to scripture for the prescription of a vexed ego.

Phillipians 2:3 -5 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves Each of you should look not only to your own interests but also to the interests of others. Your attitude to be the same as that of Christ Jesus.