I call Shotgun !

I've had a lot of time on my hands lately.
I'm not quite sure if that is a good thing...but it's definitely a "thing"....
...it's "something".
The inside of my head is getting quite a bit of traffic.
 I have discovered, much to my horror, that when physical limitations are thrust upon me...
...I start talking to myself.
*wince*
It's like some twisted sitcom is happening inside my brain.
"Who writes this stuff ?"
What a mine field.
It's pretty bad when you're the writer and you can't just shut it off.
Put down the pen and walk away...step away from the paper..
Walk away from the keyboard...
Shut.it.off.
Nope.
I'm stuck.
It's just me...and..well...me.
I am not the kind of person who enjoys being carried.
I like striding out.
Huge ground eating strides.
I don't think I have ever walked slowly until this Spring.
I am NOT A FAN.
Of walking slowly.
I am tired today. So very weary.
Emotions roil at the surface of my mind and as I look over the edge..
...I can't see the bottom....
They are all there...swirling....generating their own super-storm.
I sit here in my North American home, with my North American Life.
My back and other parts of my central nervous system at odds with the rest of me.
My bank account responding negatively to the current scenario.
My mind grasping at straws.
Ways and means.
Value.
How is this of value.
The walking slow. The resting.The non-doing.
It feels Negative.It feels Wrong.
People are dying of horrible diseases.
People are starving.
Mothers are walking miles to get water for their families...for a day.
Women in India are being burned alive for not providing higher dowry payments.
Bombs are falling.
Children are being sold for $10 into Sex Slavery.
Bombs are falling.
And I sit.
And I cry.
And I pray.
I PRAY.
It doesn't feel like enough.
Who set the currency on a life?
The value of a minute?
Why me here?
Why them there?
Oh my God.
Oh my.
GOD.
I don't get it.
I don't know if I ever will.
Today...I 'm not driving.
Today is...all there is.
This is the gift of God.
The here and now.
This is my life: Precious. Ordained. Held.
God have mercy on the women in India...
...the children in Sudan...
...the Fathers in Indonesia..
...the believers in Pakistan...
God have mercy on my family in Eastern and Western Canada..
...my friends...in Denver, USA...
...Reading, UK...
...all across Canada....

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, 

but on what is unseen. 

For what is seen is temporary,

but what is unseen is eternal.

~ 2 Corinthians 4:18, NIV ~

I see dimly.
Through a veil of human intellect.
Limited.
Skewed.
Distorted.
I am like the blind man who sees: " men as trees walking." in Mark 8:24
I have to trust the One who can MAKE ME SEE.
The One who sees all.
The One who knows all.
The One who fills all.
He was. He is. He will be.
My life is becoming about agreeing.
 I see better when my eyes are closed.
Why is it that I think prayer is less ?
Because maybe...being invisible is one of the worst possible scenarios I can imagine.
I live in a society that thrives on accomplishment.
We define it. Describe it. Market it .Reward it.
Prayer...is not a fame producing career choice...
Well it can be: when attached to the branding and marketing of a name or ministry.
There can be lots of money in that.
There were some of those in Jesus time...and what he said to them has me scurrying for the shadows of obscurity.
Today... in this new day...this miraculous rotation of the Earth on it's axis... with 7 billion other created beings...
I choose.
This day.
Whom I will serve.
I serve at the pleasure of God.
He wills.
I am.
He drives.

I'm along for the ride.
I call shot-gun.