Written by: Amy Dalke
I did not run a half marathon on Saturday (like originally planned), nor did I go to Luke’s baseball game. I also did not show up for the community assessment walk for Friends of North Rosenberg. Come to think of it, I don’t even think I brushed my teeth.
All in all, Saturday was wildly productive. If your definition of productive is akin to the terms useless or unfruitful.
I did, however, watch the entire first season of Friday Night Lights. And I passed three more levels of Candy Crush. (I lead a fascinating life, what can I say?)
This lack of constructive activity wasn’t limited to Saturday, though. The last two weeks of my life have been spent on less than worthwhile endeavors.
Mainly because I have accomplished nothing, short of making Luke’s lunches. (And since that consists of either a frozen PB&J or a Lunchable, it shouldn’t be considered in the worthwhile category, technically speaking.)
Suffice it to say, I’ve been down for the count.
Saturday was the fourteenth day in a row, that I have had a debilitating headache. This was not just a little headache, like the kind I get on occasional evenings at bedtime. (Don’t judge. I’m not above that excuse.)
This one was for real. On five of the last fourteen days, I went back to bed after getting Luke off to school. Not because I was lazy (that would have been more endurable), but because I literally couldn’t function.
This was not a welcome complication, given that I have such high aspirations of becoming the Perfect Housewife, and Super Mom, and NY Times Bestselling Author. And forget all those Pinterest projects on my list of wishful thinking. My head couldn’t even handle the looks of a hot glue gun.
This stupid headache also trumped my writing plans. And, well, writing kind of is the plan now. Suffice it to say, this headache rendered me useless.
And fool that I can be at times, I decided it was God’s fault.
I mean, clearly…He could have stopped the headache.
Didn’t He come up with this whole writing idea in the first place? What gives?
Not only am I totally on the disabled list when it comes to my new laundry and kitchen duties, I can’t even look at the computer screen to string two words together.
It didn’t help much when, in the middle of a rant at God about this, Larry asked me if Job ever blamed God…and Job endured far worse than a mere headache.
Thank you very much (not) for Your Holy-Spirit-ness, stopping me in the middle of my complaining tracks.
I really wanted to smack him for this truth punch, but his words actually did change my thought pattern. (Don’t tell him.)
God wasn’t to blame for my headache. Far from it. I’m pretty sure the migraine was somehow tied to the stress and anxiety that I tend to wear like a backpack.
Stress…which is a result of misplaced faith.
I tend to put my faith in my own efforts, even after God does things like part metaphorical Red Seas in my life.
I get all fired up about a thing (anything) in the fuel and gumption of the Holy Spirit…until I decide to take over the reins. (This typically happens when depending on Him requires some effort.)
It’s like I think I have to figure it all out on my own…as though He doesn’t have a significant say in the matter.
I had a basketball coach who would say, “You have to dance with the one who brung you”.
(Clearly when people make up old sayings, grammar isn’t a priority.)
In other words, if your team is awesome because of your outside shooting, don’t use the championship finals as an opportunity to focus on your inside game.
We can’t up and decide to pursue that thing God is calling us to do…claiming He is the reason and power behind it…then ditch Him after the second quarter.
The gain we achieve in any worthwhile endeavor, is won fully by the grace of God.
How quickly I forget.
Hence, these headaches.
Because I work myself into a tizzy trying to accomplish things in my own strength, as if I can worry myself into a creative (and daresay, godly) solution.
It doesn’t work that way.
I didn’t have the power to do this thing on my own in the beginning.
And I don’t have the power to do it on my own now.
You and I cannot accomplish any meaningful task for the Kingdom of God, if His Spirit is not our fuel…the source of creativity.
So maybe I should dance with the One who brung me.
(I seriously cannot believe I just used this phrase.)
Check yourself this week:
Are you working yourself towards a migraine?
Are you trying to fulfill God’s purposes in your life…without Him?
Doesn’t even make sense when you put it that way.
You are not God. So stop trying.
We are just vessels.
So sit still, and be that.
“Then he said to me, ‘This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.‘” (Zechariah 4:6)
p.s. Meanwhile…my headache is gone. And gone with it is the excuse to play Candy Crush, and spend hours of my life watching Doogie Howser on Netflix.