Monday, October 16, 2006

Working like a Dog

Working Like a Dog...or, No Bible Study for me

It's hunting season. And Monday night football. The combination of the two means that the chances of my being able to go to my Monday night 6:30 bible study are pretty stinking slim. Which almost made me cry at work tonight. Because it's at Nancy's. And I really like all the girls in the study, and the study we are doing, and this will be three sessions in a row that I've missed. I tried to broach the subject with the management today, but was told that the schedule is not up for discussion at this point, and plan on working long hours because we're understaffed through hunting season. Good for the money and debt payoff. Bad for moi...unless 9 other people want to rearrange the study so that one person can go. How is it that employers can keep changing schedules without so much as a consultation. The only way to have this type of job is to be available at all times, plan on nothing, and start no non-work activity. Because you might be called in. So tired of this!

Updates on the Spiritual Slump: almost 2 years and counting. Really. Thank God for Flogamockers and Lewis or I'd be completely adrift. I keep telling myself not to panic. God went for whole centuries without direct contact, why am I expecting regular updates. The practical part of me tells myself that God will make himself perfectly clear when he wants to, and until then to sit back and assume I'm on the right path unless I hear otherwise. The other part starts whimpering in the background that perhaps my spiritual malaise is indicative of a greater catastrophe. How funny (not ha ha) to sit back and watch people who became Christians long after me grow, mature, and find copious amounts of purpose. Meanwhile I keep treading water hoping that sometime soon I'll either touch ground or find a boat. My personal devotions (of which modern Christiandom makes such a guilt trip) consist, often, of staring at a section of scripture that is color coded, highlighted, personally referenced and footnoted, and wondering what on earth does it mean. The words, I mean. Because I'm staring at a page that once unlocked a new truth every time I went over it, and now I can scarcely make sense of all those little squigglies we call letters. Putting them together into words is harder, and whole sentences float in and out of my brain without actually registering. This happens in most of the N.T.

Reading things chronologically has had its own effect. Now I don't want to read anything NT at all because we haven't got there yet!

Lewis is great. Another excellent quote by him, this time on Jane Eyre. He'd just reread it, and is remarking on a young unmarried woman's naivete about the joys of conjugal life, quoting a passage in the last chapter, "We talked, I believe, all day." Lewis' comment, "Poor Husband."

Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to Seattle after work for three days. I have things I need to do around here, but I also need to get far away for a little while. Adrian may or may not be coming into town on Friday, but I've already phoned Michael to let him know I'll be around (He's the guy I went out with a few weeks ago).