Tizzy

It's been an interesting couple of days here in Ryerland. (I just made that place up, don't try to google-map it). We looked at house yesterday. A house I LOVED. A house just...JUST outside of the realm of possibility and it has been messing with my head ever since. I slept badly, dreaming about it, scheming about it, and awoke to get ready for church. Discontent.

I stepped on the scale, once again. Stuffed Fresh Eggplant for dinner with a lovely green salad....Good. Oreo Ice Cream and left over cake...BAD. Discontent.

God is Green has been kicking my bum. It's this whole other realm of my spiritual existence that my mind grasps much quicker than my habits can seem to catch up to. There is a considerable noise in my head about all I could- should?- change as a result of very spiritual reasons. It's like trying to swallow an elephant and I am not now, nor have I ever been, good at a long-term project. It's like when you are on a road trip, and you suddenly get a glimpse of the long, long road ahead of you. Robb and I, on long, long car trips, used to facetiously attempt to wiggle our noses, click our heels together, and somehow be past it all and to our destination. It never worked. It probably won't work now, will it? Discontent.

Hey Vintage regulars....where were you all today???? We had 10 visitors. 5 new couples! Some had kids. I showed them to our nursery, and tried not to die of embarrassment as my kids had been playing busily and messily while I did other things. Our building is wretched, but we do the best we can. I find myself trying to find the poised "it's just a building, Vintage Fellowship is more than this place" stance over the panicking "Please don't hate us because our kid's rooms are only this much....we're doing the best we can." The whole service, I felt like I was taking emotional temperatures, looking at the back of people's heads, unusually sensitive to how it was going for them. One ear was tuned to Robb's beautifully woven tapestry of ideas, and one ear was tuned to the level of the children's voices. I am not alone in my discontent over this building.

In all of it though, I kept hearing this verse in my head:

You want something but don't get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.


There is such a thing as holy discontent. But all of my discontent is tainted with wrong motives, scheming, bad theology, selfishness, laziness, rudely expecting God to only give me easy, comfortable environs. My lust for more and better is nothing short of shocking, trumped only by my desires to be admired and doted on. Being sick of myself might be the most holy part of my discontent.

God help me. Give me the grace to be something else. I ache to be different.