I’m gulping coffee like it’s the only thing to keep me alive. I’m eating chocolate cake for breakfast- a sign that I don’t care too much this morning.
I think about cutting a head off of a rattler snake with a machete- I wonder if I could do it, it sounds exciting.
What if I stayed in the house for a whole month- I wonder if I would adapt like a person living on a sea vessel? There is no doubt that I would cut all of my hair off and re-arrange my house at least 20 times.
How can I invent a diet pill that actually makes my body work out while I just sit here and eat cake?
I look over at my fish tank and feel guilty because they are stuck in there all of the time. I worry there is one bad fish in there that makes the rest of the fish hate their life. I wish they could send me a message or tag the bad fish someway so I could flush it down the toilet. Should I try to put them all in individual glasses today and take them outside, like a field trip? I go over and feed the frog some worms that I found late last night when I realized that our new frog doesn’t eat fish food. I was out there digging for worms with a pair of chop sticks, while wearing pajamas. When the white fish nudges the frog out of the way and eats my worm, I want to throw it down the sink and turn on the garbage disposal. Stupid white fish.
Stupid white people. They have ruined most things. Accept Jesus, mother Theresa, and Bonnie Raitt- they are awesome.
I remember I ate nachos when I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t call anyone back when I was supposed to.
How come some people can throw themselves on the ground like a toddler tantrum? I wonder if it feels good to just freak out.
Stupid laundry pile staring at me. If it were alive, I would cut its head off, just like a ‘rattler’.
I decide I need some irony, as if cake for breakfast is not enough. I play some horrid Irish dance music, which awfully goes against my ‘poor me’ mood. Then I turn it off again.
What if I set up a bake sale outside of a plastic surgery hospital/weight loss center and I clapped every time someone didn’t buy anything, but when someone did buy something I would give them two for the price of one.
Even worse, is if I set up a bake sale outside of a religious organization that I knew was fasting, just to see how strong they are- and then I got mad and cried when people wouldn’t buy anything, just to be ironic.
Sometimes I think Jesus thinks I am funny, but most of the time he slaps me on the back of the head and tells me to stop wasting my time.
Today is Good Friday and I am wrapped up in a hissy fit- drowning myself in two feet of water. Even though I have floaties on my arms, I’m kicking and screaming like they won’t work. Even I know I am being crazy.
Sometimes I wish ghosts were real and the martyrs that died standing up boldly for Jesus and their people could come out of the wall and slap me in the face on these kinds of days and say, “get it together, you really dont have a reason to be acting so crazy- try dying at the stake”
That is a really good idea for an app: it senses your level of self-pity and then projects the appropriate ghost on the wall- like Anne Frank showing up mysteriously and saying,
“I’m so sorry your parents took your phone away because you didn’t get home by curfew. I don’t know what that is like because I was busy LIVING IN AN ATTIC AT YOUR AGE!”
Followed by *SLAP*. And then she disappears.
Even better would be a ghost that you could make pop up at your own will: like if you were sitting next to a bunch of women who are obsessed with their looks and are complaining about having to drink gallons of water to flush their fat or nagging over having to only eat protein, you could bring forth the ghost of a lost African tribe that was ripped apart and died because they didn’t have any water or protein and you would let the ghosts rip their cloths and earrings off like the step sisters did on Cinderella.
Wow this idea is cheering me up right now.
My kid comes in and says their brother (who was up every hour on the dot last night) just dumped the entire cereal box over the couch. The anger and self-pity comes back as I dream of a vacation.
I tell the kids to eat it off of the couch like they are dogs eating dog food off of the floor…they think it is brilliant. This buys me 15 more minutes alone.
Hmmm….What Ghost would I want to hit me in the head right now? I decide to open my bible and see if there are any in there that would shut me up.
I open the Bible to the story about the blind man. People ask in their stupid ways about the blind man:
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents [that he should be blind]?”
Jesus replies,( while probably holding back the urge to smack this guy in the head, remembering the he is from God and gets the big picture, while these idiots only know of their own religious ideas so Jesus keeps it very simple so that the ignorant people will understand),
“It was not that this man sinned or his parents, but that the works of God may be displayed in him.”
Jesus spits on the ground and makes mud with the saliva and then puts it over the man’s eyes and says go wash in the pool. So he went and washed and came back seeing.
I like this because the man had to actually find his way to the pool, having faith that it will work, and then came back seeing. How stupid we are sometimes to think that our suffering or problems cannot be used for purpose and growth- when Jesus said it himself- you don’t get it, but I do so let me spit in your eye so that you can see. (He didn’t really say those words)
Wow, I just got smacked by a ghost I like to call the Holy Spirit as I look over at my laundry pile, I realize if I do the laundry, then it won’t be there anymore and then I will feel good about accomplishing something. This is just weird: before I read this, I felt angry, self-pity, frustration at life’s problems…but then after reading, I feel purpose, hope and a strange excitement?
From horrid-ness to glorious-ness?
From wanting to eat cake and cry to wanting Jesus to spit in my eye and show me what he will do with these messy things in my life if I don’t go my own way and continue to wallow.
This ghost thing is really freaking me out.
I have to say that this is how I know without a doubt that there is a living God who moves through my circumstances, and encourages me in the strangest ways. Despite my strange, twisted thoughts and self-pity, he still comes to my door and tells me to get off my butt and get moving.
I finish my cake because I am excited….I am an emotional eater too. I slug the rest of my coffee down because I’ve got stuff to do now.
It’s Good Friday people- it doesn’t mean we have to get dressed up fancy for church or parade around like we have all of the answers….at least for me, it resembles another day to turn my sorrows into joy, my mourning into laughter and allow the binder of brokenness, the one who set my feet upon this earth with purpose- to give me a little love slap and push me back on my way….
Happy Resurrection Weekend!
*Bible story is from John 9 in the New Testament.
I stared at this tree I found the other day- someone hammered a bunch of nails into it. It reminded me of Easter Weekend and the reason we celebrate.