Life becomes a million times easier (I think, anyway) when you understand that many things are just simply tests. God is watching to see what grade we're getting and how much we've learned--or yet need to learn.
Take this morning.
I could no longer sleep so I got up at 4:00 a.m. (Kinda hate it when that happens.) While heating water for my pretend coffee, I peered out our kitchen windows and spied something moving in the shadows, just out of range from our motion-sensor light. At first I thought it was the neighbors' annoying pure black cat who tip-toes right up to our front porch and stares through the glass of our storm door, and who we must make certain is nowhere near when we allow Lennon to sit with us on the porch.
But then I saw that this black creature had white feet/lower legs and it walked more like a dog. "Hmm," I thought. "I've not seen any dogs like that around here and why would he be out at 4 in the morning anyway?" Well, it remained in the shadows and I stepped away to pour the hot water and forgot about it.
Fast-forward 5 hours later when, in the daylight, I walked to the backyard to pour birdseed in the feeders. As I walked back toward the house I smelled a subtle, more-than-annoying scent of skunk. Oh dear. That must have been what I'd seen.
Not a cat, not a dog, but a skunk.
Good grief. And I thought having a woodchuck living in our tiny backyard was a nuisance! Perhaps the skunk even kicked out the rabbit family which lives underneath the shed and maybe he lives there now. Eegads.
So all day I'm repeating, "This is only a test. This is only a test." Far better is it to reassure myself that way, than to imagine the skunk will never move away, that I'll always be afraid to go in the backyard now (especially in evenings), that this will have an effect on selling our house and yada yada yada.
But compared to my next test, that was nothing.
Ever since Tom left on Sunday, (he's due back late tonight), I've been watching Monk Season 5 dvd's (thanks to Netflix). Hours and hours of Monk episodes--it's how I'm spending my vacation. :) It's important that I tell you that so you'll understand where I'm coming from--
At 4:30 today I got a call from a stranger at the Reno airport saying he'd found a cell phone on the floor, this phone with which he was now speaking to me. He said he'd be upset to lose his cell phone so he pushed the 'Home' button and was now wondering what I wanted him to do.
So of course (after all those Monk episodes) this picture came to my mind: My sweet little husband was sitting at the airport when suddenly a couple thugs came along, grabbed him by the arms, his cell phone dropped to the floor, and they ushered him outside, telling him to keep quiet or he'd be sorry.
(Hey, don't tell me you've never imagined anything like that!)
Well, I asked the guy (who sounded very kind) to have Tom paged and I thanked him for calling me, etc. And then right away, yes, you guessed it, I began repeating, "This is only a test. True, it's odd that Tom was at the airport way before his flight, but it's not odd for him to lose things. Not even."
This is only a test. This is only a test.
So I prayed for Tom's safety and prayed, also, that I'd pass this test, and then I washed the French door glass in our Cozy Room (to stay busy) while I watched Oprah. And a half-hour later Tom called me--from his cell phone. A bit sheepishly. They'd paged him, he had his cell phone back and all was well.
Whew. Always I'll be grateful for having learned about the whole 'this is only a test' thing. Rather than worrying about what might happen in any adverse circumstance, instead, the worry shifts to, "What should I do to pass this test so that God will be pleased?"
And that's a type of worry I can handle.
******
"You will remember all the way the Lord your God led you in the desert these forty years, to humble you, and how He tested you to know what was in your heart to see if you would keep His commandments or not." Deuteronomy 8:2
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For a more detailed post about tests, here's one I wrote years ago.
Yesterday was fun. I met with a woman from the Maud Hart Lovelace online email group and we did the 'Tacy Tour' here in my area. (No axe-murdering took place. heh. She and I shared stories of how our mothers, especially, get concerned when we visit with people we met online.)
The real Tacy of the Betsy-Tacy books moved to Buffalo after her marriage, Maud Hart Lovelace (Betsy) often visited her here, and both 'Tacy' and her husband are buried nearby. For photos from our day together, go here. But if you've not read the books, the photos will probably, well, not exactly thrill your heart.
Then after lunch at that Happy Days-like place on the river, she followed me in her car miles and miles out to the countryside, the road Tom and I take amongst all the farmland, barns and cobblestone houses, the road which would take her home. We stopped at the secluded book cabin I've told you about, left our quarters and bills in the metal box by the door (remember, this is the tiny place run on the honor system) then said good-bye. Ah, another gold star day for my diary.
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And then there's today.
My, my. After that whirlwind, memorable activity yesterday and after all the cleaning of the house the past week and a half (and all the people walking through it, even last night), well, today has been quiet.
I keep feeling I should GO somewhere. DO something. SPEND some money. But God keeps saying, "Just enjoy the quietness of home. Read some books and sit on the porch. Relax. Spend some extra time with me."
Normally, I have no problem just hanging-out. Normally, I pray for days like this. But you get used to a faster pace and it becomes harder to come down from that.
So often I only think I want something, when really, I'm not even certain I'd like it if I got it. I mean, I'll be out and busy then start wishing to be home alone in the silence. Or so often on Tom's days off he's wanted me to watch a movie with him or to travel someplace and I've thought, "Sigh. If only I could just have a day all to myself."
Well, Tom's away and now I have these few days to myself. And frankly? Doing Sunday afternoon alone was enough. Those hours felt long enough for no constraints upon my time.
Now guess who's happily anticipating Tom's return?
And more, I've been reminded--
interruptions aren't so bad after all
a To Do List isn't something to dread
nor is structure a curse.
Not always having my own way means I have adventures I never would have had otherwise.
Oh, and often what I desire is only a tad of something, not a huge amount. Usually what I need is only a small change.
And may I remember that.
***
Most days? What I need isn't more money or a larger house, but more wisdom and creativity. Not more attention or fame, but more humility. Not more time, but more wisely-spent time. Not better friends or relatives, but more forgiveness--and mercy.
*****
So this weekend I dropped Tom off at the airport so he could fly away and take care of some family business in far-off California.
I am unofficially on a vacation, myself. Sorta.
On my way home from the airport I bought coffee and sang along with Carrie Underwood and felt light of heart, even though I was headed home for two hours of cleaning before the real estate lady arrived for the open house. Amazingly, I looked forward to cleaning house that day. (Can't figure that one out, myself.)
Nearing home, I stopped at an estate sale inside a house where time stood still decades ago. The home, obviously, had been decorated in the late 1960's and then left mostly unchanged.
I love it when that happens.
Oh, vintage papered rooms galore. I let myself slip backward four decades for this was a smallish two-story house, but the type where rooms appeared in odd places, like a surprise, and your eyes fell upon boxes of Modern Miss magazines from 1967 or the tops of beds with gauzy scarves and black fake leather purses beside hat boxes and seafoam-green formals.
The type of house where you could picture daughters in the fluorescent-pink upstairs bedroom buttoning their mini-skirts and putting on thick layers of mascara. Where possessions were cared for, treasured and appreciated.
Then in a retro fog I drove away, inspired, more anxious than ever to return to my own cozy Craftsman bungalow, to care for what I've been given, making it presentable and sweet for those who would soon walk through my own rooms.
So much living goes on inside a house! We, ourselves, create memories daily and may I consciously choose to create peaceful ones to be cherished far away from now, when everything has changed.
You know, rather than ones I'll pray to forget.
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Psalm 37:11
"But the meek will inherit the land
and enjoy great peace."
