Thirsty Thoughts

I am sitting here in my blogging shirt, wanting to pour out some of the random thoughts that have flitted across my brain over the last few days, but I have not had time to record.

First off, Jabin. Jabin has started climbing. He is climbing stairs, and he loves the little landing in front of our master bedroom (only four stairs off the floor from the family room.) He will sit there babbling happily for up to half an hour, proud as punch that he got up there himself. He also likes to climb onto the hearth (of the fireplace we never use, thankfully) and sit there with a very self-satisfied grin on his face. He is so funny.

Last Monday, at breakfast, when I uttered my traditional "Let's pray," he completely floored me by smacking his little hands together and holding them there until we were done the prayer. He has also started adding his own version of "Amen" at the end of the prayer (which sounds a lot like "ba." You might wonder how I can relate those two, but it is so purposefully said, and he says it every time we pray.) He has also started trying to mimic other words we say. One day I was cheering for him for doing something, and he clapped his little hands and tried to imitate my "Yay, Jabin!" It's so strange, because Noah was such a late talker, to think that Jabin is actually trying to communicate verbally. He has also caught on to a few Baby signs: "down," "dog," and he has also tried "more" and "all done," although is not using them with any consistency, yet.

Suri's getting spayed today. You might be wondering why I have barely mentioned our dog since my initial post about her. The reason is, most days I barely tolerate her. The rest of the time, I harbour a secret wish that she would wander off and get eaten by coyotes. This seems harsh and extreme, and all the good feelings you got about me for being so nice to the lady at the hardware store have just fluttered out the window. But truthfully, this was not a good time in my life to get a puppy, and we maybe should have: a) waited another 6 months to a year, as per our original plan, and b) gone with a Golden Retriever, as per our original plan. She has destroyed more stuff with higher value (both sentimentally and fiscally) than she will ever be worth to me, and has gotten us in trouble with our neighbours and the SPCA by escaping three times in the same week (by different means) and being a little too frisky and nippy with the neighbourhood kids. I can't believe we are spending $250 on this operation today. I thought about just giving her away, but then I took a deep breath, set my teeth, and decided to keep waiting it out. Eventually, she'll be done teething. Eventually, she will no longer be a puppy. Eventually, she will calm down (hopefully), and not always be knocking the kids over and going ga-ga over any stranger that comes to our door and not listening to simple commands.

Or, I'll give her away. (Or maybe wait until the coyotes are howling at the moon one night and open the gate to the backyard...)

Lastly (for today), the Lord has been dealing with me on an issue that has been uncovered in my spirit over the last week. Complacency. Ugh. How did I ever end up here? Since first becoming a Christian at the age of 15, I have abhorred Complacency. I have prayed fervently against it. I have wanted to always have the passionate fire for God, and helping people, and loving others, and sharing truth with them that I had then.

The thing about Complacency is you never see it coming. You just wake up one morning and it suddenly hits you that you have become Comfortable. And in that comfort, you no longer carry the burning torch that once lit your path. Each day seems to be mapped out through the familiarity of routine. Who needs a Lamp? Why doesn't it bother you that you haven't opened your Bible for a week? Or more?

Or wait. Maybe it does. And in the very thinking of it, you realize that the parched, empty feeling you have been ignoring has originated in the lack of the Living Water in your life. A lack that you allowed, and for which you have no one to blame but yourself.

I find I want to guzzle it, now that I remember how vital it is to my health and well-being. I want to stand in it's flow and just let it wash over me, right under the waterfall, like one of those commercials for Irish Spring or something. I have had to look at my daily schedule, my routine, and revamp, re-prioritize. Now that I have remembered where my true refreshment lies, I do not want to let old habits and life's "busy-ness" quench this life-giving flow.

Thank you, Lord, for always staying constant and being there for me, even though I am fickle and forgetful.

Psalm 42

As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"

These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God,
with shouts of joy and thanksgiving
among the festive throng.

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Saviour and my God.

My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.

By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God my Rock,
"Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?"
My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Saviour and my God.