Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Whose Fault Are My Ruts?
One of the greatest revelations I ever had? If I'm in a rut, it is always--always--my own fault. Not God's, not Tom's or my parents' or my friends' or from any unfairness in Life. No, just mine.
Even if Tom takes the car to work (like today) and I can't travel anywhere fun (also like today), that doesn't mean that my Today must run exactly like Yesterday.
Always, I can vary what I do. I can hold my quiet time in a different part of the house or extend it while taking a walk around the neighborhood (if you want to know how to ruin your quiet time, go here). I can cook something different for breakfast and eat it in a whole other part of the house or even invite a friend over for brunch. I can rearrange my living room or my whole daily schedule. I can write a letter to someone I've not written to in years or visit websites or blogs I've never visited before or read a new-to-me style of books or magazines or watch a new movie, try a new recipe...
...and think new and better thoughts... and not complain... and begin unique adventures of viewing Life as God wants me to.
And even on days when I have use of our car, I can travel a different route to the supermarket or take someone with me or shop at a whole different store. I can pick-up lunch at a new place and sit at a different park than where I usually go. Tom and I could eat at a restaurant we've never been to or visit a museum or a shop we've never tried before...
...and for a great challenge, I can try something new every day, though probably that will require I make a few changes. All of this does, actually--and that is good for me, too.
If I ever wake-up and find myself, groaning, in a rut, I always blame it on my own lack of imagination. Somewhere I wandered off the high road and took a lower one, a road which probably looked easier, even more efficient, but was in reality, so predictable I can travel it with my brain asleep.
And since it's my days which add-up to my life, I want to mix-up and shake-up these normal days so that, when I look back, I'll see no ruts dug deep in the road behind me. And I want to travel lightly, not with sacks of burdens God tried to pry from me--heaven forbid that I bog-down halfway through!