Last week I received a surprise in the form of another blog award. It came on a day when I really needed something to make me smile.
Thank you, Betty, for giving me this award. You absolutely made my day!
Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in the Lord,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
The Lord God is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds’ feet,
And makes me walk on my high places. —Habakkuk 3:17-19
For the past couple of years I’ve been keeping busy crocheting lapghans as therapy, plus it serves as a ministry. Somehow the process of crocheting seems to keep me from totally focusing on my pain. I have several patterns—some from actual patterns and some I make up as I go along—but they all have one thing in common: they are quick and easy to work up.
So here are my latest projects, displayed in a collage for your viewing enjoyment.
As you can see from the photo above—which is a couple of months old—I’m back to wearing my hair in its naturally curly state. I can still wear a straighter ‘do if I’m up to it, but it takes so much energy for me to get it into a straight look:
- set it on those giant rollers
- wait for it to dry (which seems to take forever)
- unwrap my hair from one roller at a time, blow drying each one to ensure the hair is completely dry
- use my straight iron on each curl to make even more sure it is dry and also to straighten it more
- brush out my hair
- use said straight iron again on the areas that refused to cooperate all those other times
- finally done!
All this is extremely difficult for me these days, especially when you throw in the added problem of arthritis in my shoulders.
So what’s a gal to do? Go back to what God gave me! After 60-some years, I have decided to finally embrace my natural curls. Sad that it had to take so long, huh?
How about you ladies out there? Are you happy with your hair the way it naturally is or do you change things up a lot?
Last week I read this great post by Mary DeMuth, and since “enough” is my word for 2013, I asked her if I could repost it here for you to read. Mary graciously agreed, so hold on to your hats [or shoes or tablets or phones or whatever you're holding onto right now] because this is profound stuff! Thank you again, Mary!
I noticed the little voice at the thrift store as I gathered clothes to try on. I had a panicked sense about me, worried if I didn’t crawl through everything there, I would miss something. I tried on my clothes, bought several items, and went home feeling guilty. (Have you ever had purchase regret?)
I received disheartening news from a publisher. Their words confirmed the demise of one of my books. I thought of my more successfully published friends, and felt the hole deep down. I’ve wrongly thought that finding a certain level of success in writing would be enough. I’d reach a milestone and rest a bit, happy at the accomplishment. But another mountain of achievement always looms, stealing the joy of rejoicing in the accomplishment. Click to tweet this.
I’ve wanted wood floors as long as I can remember, but none of our homes have been decked with oak. It’s absolutely silly, this desire, especially in light of my friends in Ghana and Haiti whose floors are earth. I know we have so much. Why pine after pine?
My enough is broken.
The enoughness of enough hasn’t yet satisfied me. New (to me) clothes won’t fill up a heart. Instead, they’ll steal from our bank account. No matter what I achieve as a writer, there will always be another literary carrot just a little further ahead, stealing my temporary joy. Once the wood floors grace my home, there will be other home improvement items luring me–a new cooktop, different counters, an arbor out back.
I feel like Jeremiah aimed a verse at me this week: “My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.” *Jeremiah 2:13)
I’ve forgotten that Jesus is my enough. Instead, like the Achiever that I am, I have dug cisterns til the cows came home, only to realize they hold nothing. The water rushes through, temporarily satisfying, but never really filling me up.
I’ve become like Solomon. “And all that my eyes desired I did not refuse them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart was pleased because of all my labor and this was my reward for all my labor. Thus I considered all my activities which my hands had done and the labor which I had exerted, and behold all was vanity and striving after wind and there was no profit under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 2:10-11
The solution? I have to stop. Rest. Revel in the now. Be like the Apostle Paul and learn the secret of true contentment, of being okay with lack or gain, all my strength coming from Jesus.
It’s not easy, though.
We live in a culture where there’s no enoughness to enough. Materialism and consumerism demand that we feed our desires constantly, never satisfied with the now. And it spills over into our businesses and ministries. If we revel in the enoughness of enough, then we’re not forward thinking, or we’ve lost our edge. We must always, always be shipping.
When will it end? Should we live on a treadmill, never stopping, never celebrating, never breathing a holy exhale long enough to simply say, “Thank You Jesus?” I hope not.
I’m, of course, preaching to myself in this post. But I have a hunch you’ve been there before, too. Will there ever be an “enough” in your life? What is enough?
Let’s decide together that there is enoughness to enough. To stop right now and be counterculturally CONTENT. Who’s with me?
Q4U: When have you truly felt you had enough? What messes with your feeling of enoughness?
Please do yourself a huge favor and visit Mary’s “Uncaged” site at http://www.marydemuth.com/