Lessons From a Midnight Mouse
I jolted awake to the sound of scratching and scampering, followed by an excited "Woof!" from our terrier, Tess. I turned on the bedside lamp, revealing our pup's intense focus on something beneath our dresser. That's when I spotted it—a tiny grey mouse darting across our bedroom floor.
Talk about a rude awakening! Living in rural Wales, backed up against sheep pastures and woodlands, I suppose we should have expected such visitors sooner. But after two years without any uninvited guests, we'd grown complacent. Now, here we were, at midnight, watching our typically sweet-natured terrier transform into a determined hunter.
Needless to say, sleep proved elusive that night. Between Tess's vigilant guard duty and my heightened awareness of every little sound, morning couldn't come soon enough.
Strategies for Overcoming the Chaos of Over-Commitment
As I sit here, typing away, I can't help but chuckle at the irony. Here I am, writing about the dangers of over-commitment while my to-do list threatens to topple off my desk and bury me alive. It's a bit like a drowning man giving swimming lessons, right?
But let's be honest, we've all been there. We've all felt the weight of too many responsibilities pressing down on our shoulders, threatening to crush us under their collective mass. It's as if we're trying to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. Over a pit of hungry alligators. In a hurricane.
The physical toll of over-commitment is no laughing matter, though. Our bodies weren't designed for constant stress and activity. We need rest, rejuvenation, and the occasional nap (preferably not during the pastor's sermon, but I won't judge). When we push ourselves too hard for too long, our bodies start to rebel.
Headaches become our constant companions. Our backs ache like we've been lugging around boulders instead of grocery bags. Our eyes develop a twitch that makes us look like we're constantly winking at everyone (which can lead to some awkward situations, let me tell you). And don't even get me started on the joys of stress-induced acid reflux. Nothing says, "I'm living my best life," like feeling like you've swallowed a flamethrower after every meal.
Rekindling Our Zeal
Have you ever stopped to think about the word "enthusiasm"? It's a word we use often to describe our passion or excitement for something, but did you know that its etymology has a fascinating link to the divine? The word "enthusiasm" comes from the Greek "enthousiasmos" (ἐνθουσιασμός), which can be broken down into two parts: "en" (ἐν) meaning "in" or "within," and "theos" (θεός) meaning "god." In ancient Greek, "enthousiasmos" referred to a state of divine inspiration or possession by a god.
Isn't it fascinating how language evolves? While the original concept of "enthusiasm" was related to being filled with or inspired by a divine presence, the meaning has evolved over time to describe intense excitement or zeal for any cause or interest. But as Christians, I believe we should reclaim the original meaning of enthusiasm and apply it to our relationship with God.
The Odd Flower Out
I was out in the garden the other day, hanging up some laundry and enjoying the sun's warmth on my face, when I noticed something unusual. A single daisy-like flower bloomed tall and steady in the middle of one of my backyard bushes. I had seen it before—last year, in fact—and it had struck me as odd then, too. It seemed so out of place, protruding from the bush all alone in its uniqueness.
As I stood there, admiring the flower, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with it. Indeed, we've all had moments where we've felt like the proverbial square peg trying to fit into a round hole. We've all experienced that sense of not quite belonging, even among those we consider to be our closest friends and family. It's a feeling of isolation, being different, and standing out like a sore thumb.
Mindfulness in Christian Living
This morning, Jason decided to treat us to homemade scones for breakfast. It was a lovely gesture, to be sure, but one that didn't quite go according to plan.
You see, our oven is a bit of a peculiar beast. It's got two knobs: one for temperature and another for the various oven controls. You can turn up the temperature without turning on the oven or turn on the oven without adjusting the temperature. We typically leave the temperature set and only fiddle with the control knob, as we're creatures of habit when it comes to baking temperatures.
Jason went about his merry way, mixing the ingredients and shaping the scones with the precision of a master baker. He popped them in the oven, set the timer, and waited for the magic to happen. But when the timer went off, he opened the oven door to find... raw dough. The scones looked exactly as they had when he'd put them in!