When You’re Disappointed With Yourself
I had big plans for this week. This was the week I was going to catch up on a bit of rest, reset my house from the previous events, and focus a bit on my writing projects. Yep, it was going to be a glorious, productive week.
But, now the week is halfway through, and I'm confused about my lack of accomplishments. Sure, I've done a bit of housework and spent a bit of time on a single writing project. But where did the rest of the time go? Why hasn't more been done? What have I been doing all week? Good grief!
We've all had those days (or weeks) when our best intentions seem to crumble like a poorly constructed house of cards. We tell ourselves we'll do better, be better, but then life happens, and we find ourselves falling short…again.
Focused on the Wrong Things
I recently watched a fascinating video about the complexities of the human brain and how selective our attention can be. The presenter gave specific instructions: "Count how many times the team in white passes the ball." Simple enough, right?
The video began, showing players in white uniforms and others in black, all passing basketballs to their teammates. Having seen similar psychological experiments before, I thought I was one step ahead. "Aha!" I mused smugly. "I know this trick. They'll ask about the black team's passes when it's over, trying to catch me unaware."
So rather than counting the white team's passes as instructed, I cleverly (or so I thought) tracked the black-clad team instead. I was feeling quite pleased with myself as the video concluded.
Then came the question that knocked me off my high horse: "Did you see the big bear moonwalking across the court?"
Packing Praise
I marvel at the mental picture in Exodus 15 after the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. Moses leads the people in a song of praise to God for their miraculous deliverance, and then we see something extraordinary:
"And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances." (Exodus 15:20)
Wait a minute. Timbrels? You mean tambourines?
Let's consider the context. The Israelites had fled Egypt in haste. Pharaoh's army was bearing down on them. They were escaping slavery with only what they could carry, presumably just the bare necessities for survival in the wilderness.
Yet somehow, these women had packed tambourines. All of them?
Can you imagine the packing decisions? "Let's see... bread, water, extra sandals... and definitely my tambourine!" It makes me smile to think about it.
Known by Heart
Last week, a friend from our home church in South Carolina sent me a message. Her text spoke of a show about a couple renovating a French chateau, uncovering secret passages, and searching for hidden treasure. Then she told me how she thought of me every time she watched a new episode.
From the moment I sat down to watch the first episode of the show, I understood why it would cause her to think of me. The dusty corridors of the ancient chateau. The excitement of discovering forgotten rooms behind paneled walls. The historical research to track down clues about potential treasures. It was exactly the sort of thing that makes my heart race with delight.
As I watched the couple navigate their renovation adventure, something unexpected settled over me like a Welsh mist.
Beyond Lip Service
Sometimes the most powerful messages come from the simplest places, like the children's song we chose for our Holiday Bible Club: "Our God is so big, so strong, and so mighty, there's nothing that He cannot do!"
I believe those words with my whole heart. I truly do! I can recite countless Bible verses about God's unlimited power. I've taught lessons about His omnipotence. I've written devotions about it. But then our three-day Holiday Bible Club happened.
After weeks of glorious Welsh sunshine (a rare treat indeed!), the forecast suddenly changed. The very week we'd planned to host children in our not-so-waterproof tent, the heavens opened. Wind whipped at the tent sides while rain drummed relentlessly overhead. Oh, bother!
"Of all the weeks for the weather to turn," I cried, watching water drip from the tent poles overhead. "We've had beautiful weather for a month, and now this?"