Fussy britches...

So, I was sitting in church before the service began, leaned over and told my husband, "Okay, today I just hate people."  He gives me a grin with that bearded face.  Asked if something specific had happened and I said that, no, I just hated folks.  Today.

Here's the deal.  I'm tired of people-pleasing.  Of so many Marthas at our church.  Such self-sacrificing women who just plain wear. me. out.  

I screw up.  Okay?  I really screw up sometimes.  And, you know, I don't have to bow to that pressure.  With God, I'm good enough right now,  Today.  I love that.  We need, as the body of Christ, to stop beating up on one another.  And do less, not more.  Take care of what's in front of us without fabricating more works.

There was a meeting after church about Christmas preparations and all the Advent goodness.  Gary was there and he volunteered to deliver the presents to the Neighborhood Christian Center in December, among other things.  Folks (the Marthas) were offering to do all sorts of things.  Okay, fine.  Be that way.  These are a couple of women who are already booked, but they just won't let up.  I promise, it'll get done.  But to load more on your already-weighted-down-backs is ridiculous.

I asked Gary afterward if I should've been there (honestly, I wasn't part of any committee who was supposed to be present). and he said I could've probably come and offered to do something, but to his credit, no pressure was laid on me.  He's a good man, even though he's got way too much energy.  I said I'd prefer to do things I felt the Lord setting in front of me than doing things just because of a void on the checklist.  I'm really big in following your spiritual giftedness, but really, anyone can take out the trash, you know?  No reason to be persnickety, but doing to be doing isn't the way.  And really, if some things DON'T get done, what's the worst that would happen?

Yeah, that's what I thought too.

Sadly, though, we won't have a Christmas Pageant this year.  My favorite thing.  I'll just have to get over it.  Correction:  Oldest daughter heard Gary and I talking about it just now and will offer to organize it.  Thrills me to bits.  So like the pageant from Sam Elliott's movie Prancer, a personal favorite, for obvious reasons.  Ahem.  Focus.  Focus.

More joy.  That's what I need and want.  And anybody remember me telling what my mom said the day after her stroke two years ago?  She said, "I wish I'd had more fun."

Words to keep tucked in your heart.

(listening to Toto's Africa and Rosanna)