Whirled Peas

I have become a real Joyce Meyer fan.  Well, I take that back.  I have been a fan of Joyce since my mom introduced me to her in high school, but recently, her messages have resonated with me and held me up in some trying times.  Joyce has been like a spiritual mentor/mama in the best sense - coming in and out of my life (via the courtesy of my Samsung or Sharp) during many different phases of my life - never condemning when I was away, but always welcoming me back with a message that was purposeful, present and appropriate.  Like my best friend said, she tells it like it is, and doesn't mince words.  I can totally appreciate that in this particular phase of my life, when I don't have the luxury of ruminating in innuendo and analogy.  Maybe that's why my working mom enjoyed also watching her.  I can remember mom sitting in the dark in the early weekday mornings with her cup of coffee in hand, watching Joyce while I puttered around trying to shake the sleep off and get ready for school to make it in time for the first bell at 7:30.  Now, here I am, 20 years later, sitting in the early morning darkness every weekday morning, with my coffee in hand, watching my trio eat while Joyce preaches on.  Full circle.  Yeah, I know.  I've become my mother!

Anywho, the past couple of weeks of messages have been particularly helpful.  Joyce has doing a Boot Camp series, and most of what she has been speaking has been exactly what I've needed when I've needed it.  Especially the couple of sermons she's done on peace.  Which got me to thinking...how much peace do I really have?  How much peace should I have?  And, getting right down to it (since I have plenty of things on my to-do list, laundry piling up, dust balls forming and quite frankly, not enough hours to sit around and contemplate this kind of stuff), how much what is the absolute minimum amount of peace that I need in order to function as a contributing member of society? 

I wish I was one of those people who was able to find peace admist chaos, strife and malignment from others.  I'm working on it (since in most of the aforementioned areas I really don't have a choice anymore - HA!).  But, you're talking about someone whose innermost peace is primarily dependant and fed by things

 like this:

Family Command Center - Geeky, I know...

and this:

Calendar Neurosis at its finest...

I admit it - I love my calendars, whiteboards and shopping lists.  Adore them.  OK, so perhaps I have not extoled their virtues enough so that you have a complete understanding of the depth of my feelings.  Let me put it this way:  Calendars are the Katie Holmes to my Couch-Jumping Tom Cruise.  So, the concept of striving for peace without the benefit of all that is contained in those beautiful spiral-bound 1X1 squares gives me the jimmy-eye and a full-body shiver.  But, the concept Joyce spoke on  is simple:  you put your peace in other places (trust/peace outside of God's hands) and you will never know true peace.  But, Joyce (I say), really now...how can I be expected to give up my control (or what I think is my control) and have any kind of peace without order, structure, routine and knowing/documenting what to expect in the days/weeks/months ahead? 

Let's face it, peeps - I'm a Baby Christian.  I'm still learning, and often I have to catch myself from thinking that just because I am listening so intently and wanting so desperately to hear and just absorb everything that all of that effort will cause me to immediately believe it, apply it, live it and just walk on out there and tell the world what's what!!!   I admit that I'm totally struggling with this one.  Yes, I realize that I ultimately have no control in this life, despite what is written down makes me believe.  But, to have an ever-present peace with that knowledge of no control?  And to have peace because of that knowledge?  It's hard to wrap my mind around it - it doesn't make logical sense!

But here's where this one is really kick-in-the-crotch-fantastic:  in order for me to have peace in the midst of chaos, I have to not only give up my 'control', but I have to embrace the chaos, acknowledging that everything is His, and He will keep me in the palm of His hand, even in the midst of forgotten blankets, last-minute cancellations, MMA-like fights over The Tinkerbell Cup (even though there are 2) and forgotten dog dinners (c'mon...I know I'm not the only one who's done this, so no snarky comments!).

Good Lord.  No, really.  Literally:  Good.  Lord.  He is so good that he can love me in spite of me running around like a chicken with my head cut off, thinking that I have a say in it all and how it's ultimately going to turn out.  How patient and loving He is to to let me figure it out on my own!  I imagine that He just shakes his head and smiles as I run around updating schedules and menus - much in the same way that I smile and shake my head at The Munchkin or The Monkey when they run around gathering things that they "need" for a trip to the mall:  this doll, that purple crayon and the one pink flowered sock (don't ask...).

This one is definitely going to take some practice and some trips around the mountain before I fully understand it.  I'm going to have to work on it, I'm quite sure.  And work on it.  And work on it again. (10th year of wandering the wilderness and going 'round the mountain, 1 more to go...)

In the meantime, I'll try and reference my calendar with a little less neurosis, and try to take my (personally crafted, ironically enough) message I had inscribed on the front to heart - His heart, though...not mine:

Much love and stay tuned...