When I was a child I often thought about how good life would be if I were an adult. No one would be able to boss me around, and I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to do it. I would need no one's permission and I would have to answer to no one!
Umm, yeah.
If I ever had the nerve to let those thoughts come out of the megaphone God placed under my nose, and I'm sure I probably did, I'm even more sure that my parents, after giving me a long lecture about life and responsibility and anything else they thought I needed to hear at the moment, giggled to themselves as they walked out of the room shaking their heads. Life for adults who are even half decent members of society is pretty much the direct opposite of the way I envisioned it. Especially my life.
That's why when I sit down to write, I'm usually squirming in my seat. For you see, I WANT to write. I WANT to sit here and let my thoughts pour out onto the page like a waterfall crashing into a river far below. Sometimes, rather often, that's ALL I want to do.
But there's always someone or something else needing my time and attention. I suffer from Martha Syndrome mixed with Tyranny of the Urgent. Thus my life is full. Full of half finished projects, clutter, disorganization, scattered thoughts, unproductive tasks, and major frustration. And worst of all, though I'm always busy doing something, I seldom feel like I am doing what I want to do. Just call me Martha the Urgent Tyrant! If you can relate, raise your hand! Better yet, leave a comment.
So, when I, as MUT, get the urge to do something I really REALLY want to do, I feel guilty. I look around and see all the things I ought to be doing instead. You know, those things that make me think I'm a half decent member of society. I hear voices in my head telling me that if I do what I want to do, I will appear to be lazy, irresponsible, and ... Those voices go on and on like the parental lectures I got as a child. Though please don't think bad thoughts about my parents. I needed those lectures. They were good for me and made me the half decent member of society that I am. My parents didn't name me MUT. It's an identity I picked up along life's road somewhere.
Before a MUT can ignore all the voices in her head and do what she wants to do, she usually has an internal struggle and has to come up with a way to justify her actions, or she has to have permission from someone outside her head. At least this MUT does. That way I'm prepared with a response if anyones complains that I'm not doing what I ought to do. That's what I was doing when my hubby called me on the phone this afternoon. Struggling.
"Whatchya doin'?"
"I'm fixing myself a glass of ice water," I said. I didn't think I should tell him that I was also trying to come up with a good reason to sit down and write rather than do all the housework that needs to be done.
I asked him what he was doing and after a few seconds of chitchat he told me the reason for his call. Some really cool looking clouds were starting to pop up like popcorn and he thought I would like to take a picture of them. I love that man!
Umm, yeah.
If I ever had the nerve to let those thoughts come out of the megaphone God placed under my nose, and I'm sure I probably did, I'm even more sure that my parents, after giving me a long lecture about life and responsibility and anything else they thought I needed to hear at the moment, giggled to themselves as they walked out of the room shaking their heads. Life for adults who are even half decent members of society is pretty much the direct opposite of the way I envisioned it. Especially my life.
That's why when I sit down to write, I'm usually squirming in my seat. For you see, I WANT to write. I WANT to sit here and let my thoughts pour out onto the page like a waterfall crashing into a river far below. Sometimes, rather often, that's ALL I want to do.
But there's always someone or something else needing my time and attention. I suffer from Martha Syndrome mixed with Tyranny of the Urgent. Thus my life is full. Full of half finished projects, clutter, disorganization, scattered thoughts, unproductive tasks, and major frustration. And worst of all, though I'm always busy doing something, I seldom feel like I am doing what I want to do. Just call me Martha the Urgent Tyrant! If you can relate, raise your hand! Better yet, leave a comment.
So, when I, as MUT, get the urge to do something I really REALLY want to do, I feel guilty. I look around and see all the things I ought to be doing instead. You know, those things that make me think I'm a half decent member of society. I hear voices in my head telling me that if I do what I want to do, I will appear to be lazy, irresponsible, and ... Those voices go on and on like the parental lectures I got as a child. Though please don't think bad thoughts about my parents. I needed those lectures. They were good for me and made me the half decent member of society that I am. My parents didn't name me MUT. It's an identity I picked up along life's road somewhere.
Before a MUT can ignore all the voices in her head and do what she wants to do, she usually has an internal struggle and has to come up with a way to justify her actions, or she has to have permission from someone outside her head. At least this MUT does. That way I'm prepared with a response if anyones complains that I'm not doing what I ought to do. That's what I was doing when my hubby called me on the phone this afternoon. Struggling.
"Whatchya doin'?"
"I'm fixing myself a glass of ice water," I said. I didn't think I should tell him that I was also trying to come up with a good reason to sit down and write rather than do all the housework that needs to be done.
I asked him what he was doing and after a few seconds of chitchat he told me the reason for his call. Some really cool looking clouds were starting to pop up like popcorn and he thought I would like to take a picture of them. I love that man!
One symptom of MUT Syndrome that I failed to tell you about is you get so busy trying to appease the voices in your head, that you totally ignore the One speaking to your heart. Today that voice, the voice of the Holy Spirit, said "Sit down and write." And, the MUT that I am, began the internal struggle aforementioned.
I can't tell you how much I love my husband! He knows me and he knows what I like. He knows what makes me happy and what makes me smile.
But there is One I love even more. HE knows me too. Even better. HE knows I'm a MUT. I know when I hear His voice I should obey right away, but He knows I struggle between doing what He calls me to do and doing what I think I ought to do.
"Martha, Martha..." Can't you just see Him shaking His head?
He loves me and knows what I need. So...
Because I was so overwhelmed by the love of my man, I felt safe and full of trust. So I took a chance. "I have the urge to write, but I have so much housework to do. What do you think I should do?"
Hubby didn't even hesitate. "I think you should sit down and write." (Permission!)
My heart almost burst and I almost cried. "Me too," I said. "It makes me happy."
"Uh-hu." My man is a man of few words but he gets his point across.
I wonder if he knows how often God uses him to demonstrate His love for me? I doubt it.
Someday maybe I'll get it through my thick skull that when the Holy Spirit tells me to do something, I can obey freely without trying to justify myself or getting the permission and approval of any other person. That's what Jesus does for me. (I want to be more like Mary. Isn't that a little bit more like I had hoped life would be?) I'm working on it.
But until then, I'm thankful for God's mercy and grace in my my weaknesses.
But there is One I love even more. HE knows me too. Even better. HE knows I'm a MUT. I know when I hear His voice I should obey right away, but He knows I struggle between doing what He calls me to do and doing what I think I ought to do.
"Martha, Martha..." Can't you just see Him shaking His head?
He loves me and knows what I need. So...
Because I was so overwhelmed by the love of my man, I felt safe and full of trust. So I took a chance. "I have the urge to write, but I have so much housework to do. What do you think I should do?"
Hubby didn't even hesitate. "I think you should sit down and write." (Permission!)
My heart almost burst and I almost cried. "Me too," I said. "It makes me happy."
"Uh-hu." My man is a man of few words but he gets his point across.
I wonder if he knows how often God uses him to demonstrate His love for me? I doubt it.
Someday maybe I'll get it through my thick skull that when the Holy Spirit tells me to do something, I can obey freely without trying to justify myself or getting the permission and approval of any other person. That's what Jesus does for me. (I want to be more like Mary. Isn't that a little bit more like I had hoped life would be?) I'm working on it.
But until then, I'm thankful for God's mercy and grace in my my weaknesses.
If you are honest with yourself, would you say that you sometimes need permission or justification to be obedient to the voice of God? Please share your thoughts as comments here or click the Discussions tab at the top of the page to enter the forum.