Revolutions

This is me and the hunk of tree I cut off today!

My beautiful Christmas tree!

When I was in elementary and junior high (I think it should still be junior high and not middle school by the way), I was a dancer. I tapped, and I danced ballet like I was born to move to music. My body was fluid, and the music I danced to effervescent champagne sparkling, bubbling, and popping as I became one with the rhythm. I didn't think, I just moved. Okay, none of that is really true. I was a terrible dancer, but boy did I love it. I was uncoordinated, and I didn't know it. I thought I was great, and I thought I looked so beautiful in my flowing costumes. Tap was my favorite dance class because I loved to be loud, and I liked the life at connected to those silver taps on the bottoms of my shoes. My favorite thing of all to do was spot turns. They are these turns which require precision, and, done right, they look flawless. I never really could do them right, but I appreciated them.

It's interesting, though, because, now, I'm adept at revolutions. The spot turns, see, require one to look at a fixed point and turn the body without turning the head until the last moment then snapping the focus back to the fixed point. These days it seems I fix my attention on a problem, face it on my own strength, and then snap right back to the same problem with the same dilemma over whatever issue I'm facing. I look at the problem and then worry through it and hem and haw until I wear myself out. The last thing I think of is to ask for help.

A prime example is my stubbornness at doing things on my own that usually require at least one man if not more than one and certainly not one lady with an injured shoulder like myself. Case in point, I once moved a couch, a stereo cabinet (the kind for records), and a bed down three flights of stairs at my apartment. I have a broken tree limb in my red bud in the backyard, and I tried to break it all the way out of the tree this weekend. It didn't work. Today even, I bought my Christmas tree, hauled it home, took it into the house, cut off the bottom, put it in the stand, and got it upright by myself. Now, this is the exact same thing I did last year, and last year it was as hard as it was this year. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time doing it, but it really was a comedy of errors. I tried to saw off the bottom of that tree with my grandpa's old saw, and it was so stinkin' ridiculous! I am just thankful I didn't cut off my hand or anything else!

Then, I decided to call Mom for help. My step dad went right out to the shed to get a good saw for me. Let me just tell you, it took less than five minutes with the proper tools. I was so thankful. So, although I was revolving right back to my old pattern of doing things my own stubborn way, the Lord helped me out of my narrow perspective. It's like with the Israelites. They kept turning their backs on the Lord and making their lives more difficult for themselves. Yet, He lovingly kept calling them back to Himself. I'm so glad He calls me back. Hopefully, as time passes, I will learn to make Him my focus point and snap right back to Him. And, as I learn, there's grace in the mean time.

A message from the Lord to the Israelites.


"'Come now, and let us reason together,' says the Lord, 'though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.'" Isaiah 1:18