Caffeine, Jesus, and Pontification

The fog has lifted and the depression has parted, and I am now walking between the waves and functioning like a normal human being should.  I got so much work for Shaunti done today.  I had creativity, as well.

I made the executive decision to go off Zyprexa and back on Seroquel.  My depression had spiraled out of control while I was on Zyprexa.  Some days I would get up in the morning, plop myself down in my favorite chair and just stare off into space.  No motivation, no creativity, no nothing.  Just trying to figure out why I’m alive and what my purpose is here.

I hope I feel this good for my speaking gig on Friday.

Last Sunday they had a healing service at church.  Scott and I went forward for healing.  I went up for my diabetes, specifically, but I told God to heal anything He wanted.  Now, I’m a terrible over-eater.  I’m hungry a lot of the time, and I am an emotional eater.  I am nervous as all heck about Friday, and normally I’d be pigging out.  But ever since Sunday, I have had very little appetite.  I feel good - I don’t feel like I’m sick, but the desire to eat constantly has simply vanished.  I even tried to eat when I wasn’t hungry (a litmus test for God’s healing, I suppose) and I couldn’t eat.  Maybe this is how God wants to heal me of my diabetes - by helping me to eating more healthfully.

I’m not going to question this to death, I’m going to accept it and claim it as God’s hand on my life.

I have friends who are prayer warriors.  You know the type I’m talking about, right?  The kind who spend hours doing business with God, who pray all day in their heads.  They believe there’s a spiritual battle going on, and they need to fight against it.  I have deep respect but have to admit… I’m not one of them.

Prayer has always been hard for me.  I once freaked out my youth pastor by telling him I felt like I was “talking to the air.”  (And then spent ten years wondering why he didn’t like me?!)  Do I believe in prayer?  Sure.  Do I believe God answers prayer?  Yes and no.  I believe He answers prayers that are in our best interest.  The problem is not that I don’t believe in God or God’s ability to respond.  I guess I just see myself as small and unimportant, one face out of billions.  What could I possibly matter?

I cringe even as I say that, because I know it’s not true.  Yeah, I’m small but to God I’m definitely not important.  But I still feel like I’m “talking to the air” sometimes.

In my mind, I have an image of me.  I’ll admit it’s about 40 pounds lighter.  But I’m a woman of God, a woman of prayer, and I’m leading people closer to Jesus.  As much as I long to be on a stage teaching people (and yet frightened of it, too), that’s not what I’m talking about.  I have that glow.  Have you ever met someone and you just knew they were a Christian?  That’s what I want.  I want that glow.  I want the peace and joy of God all over my face.  I want to look forward to prayer, even desire it,

I’m really tired of talking to the air.

I admire strong women with gentle spirits.  My mentor, Shaunti, is one of them.  My good friend Linda is one of them (though I sometimes pick on her for thinking up worst-case scenarios).  Beth Moore is another.  Dannah Gresh.  Strong women, gentle spirits.  That’s what I want.  Where do I line up to get some of that?

How do I grasp the power of prayer and make it a part of my life that is more important than the air I breathe, or the water I drink?  The clincher is, I can’t get that out of a book or by watching Beth Moore on TV.  I can only get it on my knees.

Just me and the air… chatting up a storm.

Sometimes I pray… and I don’t expect an answer, and I wonder what point is it to even pray if you don’t believe your prayer will get answered?  My cousin, Jay, has ALS.  He’s a quadraplegic with a breathing tube.  He’s not going to get better.  Praying for his healing without ceasing…  well, I’m not sure I can do that.  I know he WILL be healed, in Heaven.  But on earth, it won’t happen.  Even if they found a cure for ALS tomorrow, it would be too late for Jay.

Just talking to the air.

Praying that my 14-year-old niece would make better choices for her life and stop going down a path of destruction.  But we have free will, and nobody knows how to use it better than she does.  God won’t reach down and stop her free will.

More air.

I’m tired of talking to the air.

God, help me understand prayer and desire it in my life.  It’s the only prayer I can muster right now.

I am struggling to find something to write, and yet I feel as though I SHOULD write, so, here goes…

Last week our car died on the corner of a country road.  I put my foot on the gas and the engine revved, but it wouldn’t go anywhere.  Then all the dashboard lights came on and the steering went.  A nice man who lived across the street came over and pushed me into his driveway to my little Chevy wouldn’t get pulverized.  I spent the next 90 minutes or so sitting in this guy’s front yard, trying to reach my husband and our insurance company (the newly rescued AIG!)  Eventually, I got a ride and the car got a tow.  Turns out it was the fuel pump that died, to the tune of up to $400.  Amusing, considering I bought the car for $500.  But you get what you pay for, so I guess I’m going to have to eat $400.

My big project for the day is cleaning out my office.  That may sound like no big deal to you, but you haven’t seen my office.  It’s pretty sad.  I probably wouldn’t even bother with it, except that I need a place to work on my book (the dining room table ain’t cuttin’ it!), and I need to prepare for a speaking gig I’m doing 2 weeks from today.

I started insulin yesterday, with the help of my brother-in-law, who used to inject my mother-in-law before she passed away.  Turns out the needle used to give me an insulin injection is actually smaller than the needle used to check my blood sugar.  I got used to stabbing myself in the fingers to check my sugar, so I think I will be able to get used to this.

Talk to you guys later!