My Rabbit Trail Morning
Otherwise Known as a Saturday at Rina’s House
Have you ever had a time in your life, that you’re juggling so many things, that it feels like you’re in the middle of a baseball diamond, surrounded by pitching machines, all set on highspeed, lobbing an endless supply of balls at you? And you can’t get any of them done.
That’s me right now. I’m tired. This last year, has been crazy. In trying to learn how to do a simple radio show (that turned into multiple video platforms, then TV), new job, new business, and a few health issues—not to mention a crazy hoard of demonic highly-aggressive wasps who’ve built an endless supply of nests outside, determined to take over my property… in league with a poison ivy infestation, that won’t let me venture safely outside… I’ve become far too busy, and sedentary. Everything I do requires sitting.
My waistline has suffered. My house has suffered. It used to be neat. It used to be nicely arranged. Now, with a chihuahua who insists that the floor be covered in toys, extra treats, and anything paper she can shred, along with endless stacks of paperwork, shows to record and edit, thumbnails to make, book covers to design, proofreading, editing, and fighting with Amazon because I don’t want to exchange the perfectly good barcode I purchased for one of theirs, it takes a backseat to ‘have to’s.’ Now… its bothering me.
So… I made a list. I’m a list maker. I always have been. I make it, arrange it from the worst and the least favorite to the better, so it gets easier rather than harder, and prioritize ‘have to’s. Then, I get busy. It’s sooo satisfying to mark off the finished tasks. It feels good. I used to measure myself or accomplishments by the list being done at the end of the day. But lately, lists don’t work. I make them. I order them. Then, I go sit and write a chapter. I’m not sure why I can’t pull it together. I’m a task accomplisher.
I went to bed at 2 this morning, after an evening of proofreading. (no… that’s not it. That’s normal for me when I’m not working the next day). This morning, I got up to write—usual for a Saturday. But got derailed, answering an email. Then another one. Then I proofread three chapters, because my mind couldn’t write. I went to put on a load of clothes, stopped to vacuum a fan covered in winter dust, and ended up disassembling it, cleaning it and setting it outside, where I had to fight off a wasp attack. They were waiting for me. Then I stripped the bed, found a book I’d lost, and stopped to read.
I texted a client, added to the list, paid my house payment and roof payment, made tea, drank a dr pepper instead, and hung up the clothes I’d washed earlier. I know when I’m upset—and I am—but it took me a while to define it.
One: it’s allergy season, and a dull headache is involved.
Two: I read an article this week that deeply disturbed me. I’m having issues with it.
A young woman in another country was purposely euthanized this week. Her parents fought it, but lost. As a parent, it hit hard. I was an infertility patient, and jumped through many hoops to be a mother. Life is precious to me. Especially their’s.
People protest wars. They protest to live wicked lifestyles. They protest the cost of coffee. But our kids are being murdered. Not just by others, but by their own hand. Our world has hurt them so badly—and quite frankly their own choices… she was disabled due to a failed suicide attempt—that death is preferable. Why?
I’m watching the wars around the world, totally ticked, while acknowledging Jesus said that they’d happen. That doesn’t help. A profound sadness fills me today.
We’re all human. I refuse to acknowledge different ‘races.’ Maybe different colors, sizes, ethnicities, cultures, and ideologies, but not race. We are the HUMAN RACE. Period.
We all need clean water, food, shelter, and energy to live our lives. Our children need care. We all need love, support, and resources. We need fun and recreation. Something I’ve lost since the lockdown, and income becoming so much more difficult to create.
The issue is: people determined to have more, at the cost of others having less, or none. We’d all argue about who those people are, and hold different opinions about it all. But at the end of the day, we all lose. Goods unable to be shipped. Prices rising. Oil refineries bombed. Hospitals bombed. Homes, businesses, all kinds of things. People being sent to fight battles they didn’t start. People die. Husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, siblings… people who give us structure and stability. People we love and need.
God said it would happen. He told us in advance. I know that. But it hurts. Its scary. I drive 45 minutes each way for my day job. Gas went up over $1.25. Its hard. Food goes up. I got a new charge on my electric bill for over $50 per month. My gas bill too. My paycheck did not go up. Medicines are being pushed on people, and if you refuse them your chart has ‘non-compliant’ on it. That affects your life insurance rate. I’m a broker. I know.
Why?
Why do people do such stupid things? Infrastructure that took years to build and pay for, gone in an instant. Did it change the other persons (country’s) mind, heart, or ideology? No. Did it stop evil people from the desire to do evil deeds? No. Only a true heart change, made by Jesus creating a brand-new person out of you, can. This world is on a fast track to Armageddon, and as I watch prophesy unfold, something inside is protesting.
My calling is to win the lost. But the lost doesn’t want to be won. The lost wants to shoot the messengers, and blow up our homes. Churches are losing people at an alarming rate, that choose the ways of the fallen ones. But they still refuse to teach the fundamental truths of the kingdom war. The war of the ages. The war against the throne of God, His ways, and His people. The truth that unless you repent and obey God’s laws, you will be separated from Him, and the wonderfulness of an eternity that doesn’t have evil anymore. That won’t stop.
I guess what I’m really upset about, is that now, the devil not only kills, steals, and destroys… and his minions do too… now he’s got too many in an internal suffering so deep, that we choose to do it for him. Not only to one another, but now to ourselves. Sin has consequences. Who we serve, does too. It changes us. It creates a culture of death.
How did that happen? Drop your comment, please. I need to hear another voice today, besides the endless looping in my head, while I try to deal with the effects of evil, a lost child that parents will never stop grieving, end-time prophecy fulfilling, and juggling too much, when I want to go hike, drive somewhere, talk to someone loving and sane… or sit and write stories of people who love rather than destroy.
Decide which side of this kingdom war you want to be on. Its God’s way or the way of the fallen ones. Those who love and build, and obey God’s laws verses those who kill, steal, and destroy, while living in as much rebellion as possible.
While you’re doing that, I’ll wander around the house, ticked off, randomly cleaning something, eating something, folding something, tripping over dog toys, doing insurance quotes, looking out the window at a world I don’t have time, energy, or gas money to explore any more, while trying to get my fragmented tail in the chair to finish my taxes.
UGH. Sometimes the enemy of peace, is simply the price of trying to survive, while doing your best to utilize your talents, skills, and making the dream happen. For now, life goes on… but I’m reminded we have to work while it is day… the night is swiftly approaching where no man (or overworked woman) will be able to work. I told myself, “Pull up those big girl pants, chick. You can’t stop, until then.” Maybe the glass of tea and my characters need me for a few more minutes. I created the community I’d like to be a part of, after failing to find it. (Yeah… my own brand of crazy…) Then, I’ll actually get started (yeah… right…)
I’ll leave you a quote from the book I’m working on, now. It’s the creed, the organization he’s a part of, lives and works by. It seems to fit my current mood, and may possibly help the spiritual pain I feel, while watching an entire world that was offered the position of joint heir with the son of God, choose to follow those who want to drag them straight to hell, and destroy them, instead.
Pray for my heart today. It’s in turmoil.
Otherwise Known as a Saturday at Rina’s House
Have you ever had a time in your life, that you’re juggling so many things, that it feels like you’re in the middle of a baseball diamond, surrounded by pitching machines, all set on highspeed, lobbing an endless supply of balls at you? And you can’t get any of them done.
That’s me right now. I’m tired. This last year, has been crazy. In trying to learn how to do a simple radio show (that turned into multiple video platforms, then TV), new job, new business, and a few health issues—not to mention a crazy hoard of demonic highly-aggressive wasps who’ve built an endless supply of nests outside, determined to take over my property… in league with a poison ivy infestation, that won’t let me venture safely outside… I’ve become far too busy, and sedentary. Everything I do requires sitting.
My waistline has suffered. My house has suffered. It used to be neat. It used to be nicely arranged. Now, with a chihuahua who insists that the floor be covered in toys, extra treats, and anything paper she can shred, along with endless stacks of paperwork, shows to record and edit, thumbnails to make, book covers to design, proofreading, editing, and fighting with Amazon because I don’t want to exchange the perfectly good barcode I purchased for one of theirs, it takes a backseat to ‘have to’s.’ Now… its bothering me.
So… I made a list. I’m a list maker. I always have been. I make it, arrange it from the worst and the least favorite to the better, so it gets easier rather than harder, and prioritize ‘have to’s. Then, I get busy. It’s sooo satisfying to mark off the finished tasks. It feels good. I used to measure myself or accomplishments by the list being done at the end of the day. But lately, lists don’t work. I make them. I order them. Then, I go sit and write a chapter. I’m not sure why I can’t pull it together. I’m a task accomplisher.
I went to bed at 2 this morning, after an evening of proofreading. (no… that’s not it. That’s normal for me when I’m not working the next day). This morning, I got up to write—usual for a Saturday. But got derailed, answering an email. Then another one. Then I proofread three chapters, because my mind couldn’t write. I went to put on a load of clothes, stopped to vacuum a fan covered in winter dust, and ended up disassembling it, cleaning it and setting it outside, where I had to fight off a wasp attack. They were waiting for me. Then I stripped the bed, found a book I’d lost, and stopped to read.
I texted a client, added to the list, paid my house payment and roof payment, made tea, drank a dr pepper instead, and hung up the clothes I’d washed earlier. I know when I’m upset—and I am—but it took me a while to define it.
One: it’s allergy season, and a dull headache is involved.
Two: I read an article this week that deeply disturbed me. I’m having issues with it.
A young woman in another country was purposely euthanized this week. Her parents fought it, but lost. As a parent, it hit hard. I was an infertility patient, and jumped through many hoops to be a mother. Life is precious to me. Especially their’s.
People protest wars. They protest to live wicked lifestyles. They protest the cost of coffee. But our kids are being murdered. Not just by others, but by their own hand. Our world has hurt them so badly—and quite frankly their own choices… she was disabled due to a failed suicide attempt—that death is preferable. Why?
I’m watching the wars around the world, totally ticked, while acknowledging Jesus said that they’d happen. That doesn’t help. A profound sadness fills me today.
We’re all human. I refuse to acknowledge different ‘races.’ Maybe different colors, sizes, ethnicities, cultures, and ideologies, but not race. We are the HUMAN RACE. Period.
We all need clean water, food, shelter, and energy to live our lives. Our children need care. We all need love, support, and resources. We need fun and recreation. Something I’ve lost since the lockdown, and income becoming so much more difficult to create.
The issue is: people determined to have more, at the cost of others having less, or none. We’d all argue about who those people are, and hold different opinions about it all. But at the end of the day, we all lose. Goods unable to be shipped. Prices rising. Oil refineries bombed. Hospitals bombed. Homes, businesses, all kinds of things. People being sent to fight battles they didn’t start. People die. Husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, siblings… people who give us structure and stability. People we love and need.
God said it would happen. He told us in advance. I know that. But it hurts. Its scary. I drive 45 minutes each way for my day job. Gas went up over $1.25. Its hard. Food goes up. I got a new charge on my electric bill for over $50 per month. My gas bill too. My paycheck did not go up. Medicines are being pushed on people, and if you refuse them your chart has ‘non-compliant’ on it. That affects your life insurance rate. I’m a broker. I know.
Why?
Why do people do such stupid things? Infrastructure that took years to build and pay for, gone in an instant. Did it change the other persons (country’s) mind, heart, or ideology? No. Did it stop evil people from the desire to do evil deeds? No. Only a true heart change, made by Jesus creating a brand-new person out of you, can. This world is on a fast track to Armageddon, and as I watch prophesy unfold, something inside is protesting.
My calling is to win the lost. But the lost doesn’t want to be won. The lost wants to shoot the messengers, and blow up our homes. Churches are losing people at an alarming rate, that choose the ways of the fallen ones. But they still refuse to teach the fundamental truths of the kingdom war. The war of the ages. The war against the throne of God, His ways, and His people. The truth that unless you repent and obey God’s laws, you will be separated from Him, and the wonderfulness of an eternity that doesn’t have evil anymore. That won’t stop.
I guess what I’m really upset about, is that now, the devil not only kills, steals, and destroys… and his minions do too… now he’s got too many in an internal suffering so deep, that we choose to do it for him. Not only to one another, but now to ourselves. Sin has consequences. Who we serve, does too. It changes us. It creates a culture of death.
How did that happen? Drop your comment, please. I need to hear another voice today, besides the endless looping in my head, while I try to deal with the effects of evil, a lost child that parents will never stop grieving, end-time prophecy fulfilling, and juggling too much, when I want to go hike, drive somewhere, talk to someone loving and sane… or sit and write stories of people who love rather than destroy.
Decide which side of this kingdom war you want to be on. Its God’s way or the way of the fallen ones. Those who love and build, and obey God’s laws verses those who kill, steal, and destroy, while living in as much rebellion as possible.
While you’re doing that, I’ll wander around the house, ticked off, randomly cleaning something, eating something, folding something, tripping over dog toys, doing insurance quotes, looking out the window at a world I don’t have time, energy, or gas money to explore any more, while trying to get my fragmented tail in the chair to finish my taxes.
UGH. Sometimes the enemy of peace, is simply the price of trying to survive, while doing your best to utilize your talents, skills, and making the dream happen. For now, life goes on… but I’m reminded we have to work while it is day… the night is swiftly approaching where no man (or overworked woman) will be able to work. I told myself, “Pull up those big girl pants, chick. You can’t stop, until then.” Maybe the glass of tea and my characters need me for a few more minutes. I created the community I’d like to be a part of, after failing to find it. (Yeah… my own brand of crazy…) Then, I’ll actually get started (yeah… right…)
I’ll leave you a quote from the book I’m working on, now. It’s the creed, the organization he’s a part of, lives and works by. It seems to fit my current mood, and may possibly help the spiritual pain I feel, while watching an entire world that was offered the position of joint heir with the son of God, choose to follow those who want to drag them straight to hell, and destroy them, instead.
Pray for my heart today. It’s in turmoil.
My Rabbit Trail Morning
Otherwise Known as a Saturday at Rina’s House
Have you ever had a time in your life, that you’re juggling so many things, that it feels like you’re in the middle of a baseball diamond, surrounded by pitching machines, all set on highspeed, lobbing an endless supply of balls at you? And you can’t get any of them done.
That’s me right now. I’m tired. This last year, has been crazy. In trying to learn how to do a simple radio show (that turned into multiple video platforms, then TV), new job, new business, and a few health issues—not to mention a crazy hoard of demonic highly-aggressive wasps who’ve built an endless supply of nests outside, determined to take over my property… in league with a poison ivy infestation, that won’t let me venture safely outside… I’ve become far too busy, and sedentary. Everything I do requires sitting.
My waistline has suffered. My house has suffered. It used to be neat. It used to be nicely arranged. Now, with a chihuahua who insists that the floor be covered in toys, extra treats, and anything paper she can shred, along with endless stacks of paperwork, shows to record and edit, thumbnails to make, book covers to design, proofreading, editing, and fighting with Amazon because I don’t want to exchange the perfectly good barcode I purchased for one of theirs, it takes a backseat to ‘have to’s.’ Now… its bothering me.
So… I made a list. I’m a list maker. I always have been. I make it, arrange it from the worst and the least favorite to the better, so it gets easier rather than harder, and prioritize ‘have to’s. Then, I get busy. It’s sooo satisfying to mark off the finished tasks. It feels good. I used to measure myself or accomplishments by the list being done at the end of the day. But lately, lists don’t work. I make them. I order them. Then, I go sit and write a chapter. I’m not sure why I can’t pull it together. I’m a task accomplisher.
I went to bed at 2 this morning, after an evening of proofreading. (no… that’s not it. That’s normal for me when I’m not working the next day). This morning, I got up to write—usual for a Saturday. But got derailed, answering an email. Then another one. Then I proofread three chapters, because my mind couldn’t write. I went to put on a load of clothes, stopped to vacuum a fan covered in winter dust, and ended up disassembling it, cleaning it and setting it outside, where I had to fight off a wasp attack. They were waiting for me. Then I stripped the bed, found a book I’d lost, and stopped to read.
I texted a client, added to the list, paid my house payment and roof payment, made tea, drank a dr pepper instead, and hung up the clothes I’d washed earlier. I know when I’m upset—and I am—but it took me a while to define it.
One: it’s allergy season, and a dull headache is involved.
Two: I read an article this week that deeply disturbed me. I’m having issues with it.
A young woman in another country was purposely euthanized this week. Her parents fought it, but lost. As a parent, it hit hard. I was an infertility patient, and jumped through many hoops to be a mother. Life is precious to me. Especially their’s.
People protest wars. They protest to live wicked lifestyles. They protest the cost of coffee. But our kids are being murdered. Not just by others, but by their own hand. Our world has hurt them so badly—and quite frankly their own choices… she was disabled due to a failed suicide attempt—that death is preferable. Why?
I’m watching the wars around the world, totally ticked, while acknowledging Jesus said that they’d happen. That doesn’t help. A profound sadness fills me today.
We’re all human. I refuse to acknowledge different ‘races.’ Maybe different colors, sizes, ethnicities, cultures, and ideologies, but not race. We are the HUMAN RACE. Period.
We all need clean water, food, shelter, and energy to live our lives. Our children need care. We all need love, support, and resources. We need fun and recreation. Something I’ve lost since the lockdown, and income becoming so much more difficult to create.
The issue is: people determined to have more, at the cost of others having less, or none. We’d all argue about who those people are, and hold different opinions about it all. But at the end of the day, we all lose. Goods unable to be shipped. Prices rising. Oil refineries bombed. Hospitals bombed. Homes, businesses, all kinds of things. People being sent to fight battles they didn’t start. People die. Husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, siblings… people who give us structure and stability. People we love and need.
God said it would happen. He told us in advance. I know that. But it hurts. Its scary. I drive 45 minutes each way for my day job. Gas went up over $1.25. Its hard. Food goes up. I got a new charge on my electric bill for over $50 per month. My gas bill too. My paycheck did not go up. Medicines are being pushed on people, and if you refuse them your chart has ‘non-compliant’ on it. That affects your life insurance rate. I’m a broker. I know.
Why?
Why do people do such stupid things? Infrastructure that took years to build and pay for, gone in an instant. Did it change the other persons (country’s) mind, heart, or ideology? No. Did it stop evil people from the desire to do evil deeds? No. Only a true heart change, made by Jesus creating a brand-new person out of you, can. This world is on a fast track to Armageddon, and as I watch prophesy unfold, something inside is protesting.
My calling is to win the lost. But the lost doesn’t want to be won. The lost wants to shoot the messengers, and blow up our homes. Churches are losing people at an alarming rate, that choose the ways of the fallen ones. But they still refuse to teach the fundamental truths of the kingdom war. The war of the ages. The war against the throne of God, His ways, and His people. The truth that unless you repent and obey God’s laws, you will be separated from Him, and the wonderfulness of an eternity that doesn’t have evil anymore. That won’t stop.
I guess what I’m really upset about, is that now, the devil not only kills, steals, and destroys… and his minions do too… now he’s got too many in an internal suffering so deep, that we choose to do it for him. Not only to one another, but now to ourselves. Sin has consequences. Who we serve, does too. It changes us. It creates a culture of death.
How did that happen? Drop your comment, please. I need to hear another voice today, besides the endless looping in my head, while I try to deal with the effects of evil, a lost child that parents will never stop grieving, end-time prophecy fulfilling, and juggling too much, when I want to go hike, drive somewhere, talk to someone loving and sane… or sit and write stories of people who love rather than destroy.
Decide which side of this kingdom war you want to be on. Its God’s way or the way of the fallen ones. Those who love and build, and obey God’s laws verses those who kill, steal, and destroy, while living in as much rebellion as possible.
While you’re doing that, I’ll wander around the house, ticked off, randomly cleaning something, eating something, folding something, tripping over dog toys, doing insurance quotes, looking out the window at a world I don’t have time, energy, or gas money to explore any more, while trying to get my fragmented tail in the chair to finish my taxes.
UGH. Sometimes the enemy of peace, is simply the price of trying to survive, while doing your best to utilize your talents, skills, and making the dream happen. For now, life goes on… but I’m reminded we have to work while it is day… the night is swiftly approaching where no man (or overworked woman) will be able to work. I told myself, “Pull up those big girl pants, chick. You can’t stop, until then.” Maybe the glass of tea and my characters need me for a few more minutes. I created the community I’d like to be a part of, after failing to find it. (Yeah… my own brand of crazy…) Then, I’ll actually get started (yeah… right…)
I’ll leave you a quote from the book I’m working on, now. It’s the creed, the organization he’s a part of, lives and works by. It seems to fit my current mood, and may possibly help the spiritual pain I feel, while watching an entire world that was offered the position of joint heir with the son of God, choose to follow those who want to drag them straight to hell, and destroy them, instead.
Pray for my heart today. It’s in turmoil.
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