Monday, August 12, 2013

"Moody Monday"

     It’s a Moody Monday.  That’s what I call it.  You know, the day after yesterday, which was, of course, a Son-shine Sunday.  I was pumped up, encouraged and inspired by the sermons preached, the songs sung, the studies studied.  Loving my Sunday.  Loving God, loving life.  Relaxed and Refreshed.  Ready to pray and praise all week.  Scripture-saturated and strong.
    Then this morning, without warning, a Moody Monday hit.  I woke up late, spilled my coffee, dropped the shampoo bottle on my toe.  The clothes I need are in the hamper, and we’re out of milk.  Kids are cranky.  Gas tank empty.  Drivers cutting in front of me.  Co-workers are bickering.  Customers cussing.  It’s another Moody Monday.  
     I was late this morning.  I just ate a slice.  You know what I mean.  The Bread of Life.  I just sliced me off a crusty end in a hurry.  I did one of those short little mini devotions.  Maybe a paragraph.  Read a verse or two.  Said a quick prayer and jumped in the car with my mind already at work.  I walked out into the dreary day ahead and left the whole warm fresh loaf of love that God had carefully prepared for me, sitting wasted and waiting in my Bible.  
     I didn’t fill up on His words this morning.  Didn’t pray and praise.  Didn’t Be Still and Know.  Didn’t raise my face to Him and soak in His presence.  And to put it bluntly, now I’m cranky.
     My very favorite days start alone in my pajamas, fresh coffee in hand, Bible and laptop open on my lap, hours of total silence in the house.  It doesn’t happen often enough.  But when it does, it’s amazing.  I usually read some scripture, write a few words, sing a praise chorus or two, cry a few tears, pray a few prayers.  When it’s over, I’m exhausted.  But I feel clean.  New.  Refreshed and strong.  I have a bounce in my step, joy in my heart and a smile on my face as I start my day.
     Those mornings don’t happen every day.  Most of the time, my days start early and end late.  They are taken up with a demanding job and family activities.  My routine is pretty set, my days are repetitious.  I get caught up in a schedule.  Busy and distracted.  And my Bible study consists of a slice of daily bread instead of the loaf that I need to fill me up.  
     I mentioned my empty gas tank earlier.  I  meant the one on my car.  If I don’t stop by the pump and fill up once in a while, I will run out of gas.  For sure.  No chance that my car will keep going without something going into the tank on a pretty regular basis.  It needs gas to run, to be productive, to get me where I want to go.  Gas goes in and my car gets happy.  Anyone who knows me well will tell you I hate to stop for gas.  I will drop strong hints to my husband to pump it.  I will often drive until I am on empty, literally on zero miles left.  Coasting on fumes. 
     Too many times I have tried to do that with my spirit and soul.  Drive it on empty.  The first signs of emptiness are when I start to lose my fruits:  love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  Sure signs I am out of gas.  My slice of daily bread has been used up, burned for fuel and reduced to scattered crumbs.  I’m on empty.
     This world is hard to deal with.  It takes little bites of me all day long.  Gossip, resentment, heartbreak, division, bitterness and sickness.  Bite after bite.  Chewing my spirit to pieces.  By the end of a Moody Monday, I’m my usual worldly cranky self again.  My spirit filled self from Son-shine Sunday is buried deep.  I need to refill and refuel.  I need my daily loaf.
     My time on this earth is short and limited.  I can detain death a little by exercising and eating right, by reducing stress, by getting regular check-ups, but eventually my earthy body is going to die, one way or another.  It’s guaranteed.  And I‘m ok with that.  And yet, too many times my focus is on earthly things.  My job, my checkbook, my weekend plans, even my family.  I focus on getting enough sleep and food to fuel my body.  But I just eat a thin slice of God’s daily bread to fuel my soul.  To strengthen my heavenly self.  Then I wonder why I’m so cranky.
     Galatians 5 tells us to “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh.”
My spiritual tank is empty right now.  I am running on fumes tonight.  I have been eaten up by my day here on earth.  Bite by bite.  And tomorrow is Testy Tuesday.  I have to face it all again.  
     As I close my eyes tonight, I resolve to wake early, sit in my pajamas, coffee in hand.  I pledge to refill my spirit, refresh my soul, renew my praise.  To taste each promise. I will chew my spiritual bread slowly.  Tomorrow, I’m going open my Bible and eat a whole loaf.

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