Lists and Snakes and Choosing Worship

Do you like lists? I do.

I like to-do lists and grocery lists and packing lists. Christmas present lists and birth date lists. These kinds of lists keep me organized and help me remember things. I like being organized. I think that may be why I like lists so much.

Some lists are just for fun. They pull out the irony or comedy in a situation. Like a list I made a few weeks ago. Really, I reduced a brief incident that played out in our front yard to a simple list. It looked something like this:

A List of Horrifying Things

1.  Micah saw a black snake.
2.  He caught the snake.
3. He brought it home.
4. He taught Moses (who is four) how to properly hold a snake.
5. When they let the snake go into the MOWED grass (not overgrown grass!) it instantly disappeared.
6. Moses cried and was upset for quite some time about having to let the snake go.
7. To help him feel better, Micah informed him that there are lots and lots of snakes living all over our yard.

This list I wrote just to bring a little humor out of the situation. I really don’t mind snakes all that much. Actually, my husband dislikes snakes as much if not more than I do. The fact that he brought one home to show the boys despite how much he detests them really shows what a good daddy he is!

So there are helpful lists that keep us organized. There are funny lists that make us smile. But there are other lists…lists that aren’t so helpful, and not the least bit funny.  Lists about people and circumstances. Lists with unspoken titles (we’re too ashamed to put a name to them and admit what is consuming our thoughts!). Lists like…

All the ways this person has harmed me, or drives me nuts

All the things that are unfair about this situation

All the things I do that no one appreciates

The suffocatingly long list of expectations others (or I!) have placed upon myself that I’ll never be able to plow through

Rarely are these kinds of lists are neatly numbered and jotted down on lined paper. No, we keep these lists in our heads, so they are easy refer to or add to...and lest anyone see our list and get a glimpse of our ugly thoughts. And since the lists aren’t written down, we rehearse them frequently, lest we forget anything.

Lately, I’ve struggled a lot with the poor-me kinds of lists.  For example…

All the things that went wrong today

The four—no, wait, five!—times the kids woke me up last night

The countless interruptions

The whining and bickering and disobeying

The dish the kids broke

The meal planning that went haywire

The toe I stubbed

The smelly load of laundry I forgot about and left in the washer much too long.

…and the list just grows and grows. It’s easy to add to because I’m on the hunt for something, anything, to make the list longer and justify my self-pity.

These kinds of lists can be deadly to relationships and poisonous to our spirits. I’ve formed these lists more often than I’d care to admit. I love my life and I love my family…but sometimes I have a frustrating day, and that mental rehearsal starts up. It can be hard to break my thoughts away.

Perhaps…maybe…the way to fight these lists is with another kind of list.

A list like…all the things I admire and appreciate about that difficult person. Or all the things GOD has done for ME that I appreciate. Or all the things that went RIGHT today. For example…

Silky soft little girl hair

Chubby, pink-flushed baby cheeks

Bright eyes sparkling with anticipation

Huge grins with deep dimples

The giggles and laughter that fill our home

This crazy wonderful precious friendship called marriage

Another spectacular sunrise splashing color across the sky

The pink rose slowly unfolding in the vase on my counter

A dishwasher. A washer and dryer. Air conditioning. Indoor plumbing. Hot water on demand. Food on the table and bulging out of the refrigerator and pantry.

Health. Joy. Prayer. Salvation.

Jesus.

Maybe…just maybe…this list of gifts I’m thankful for will turn my heart toward my Maker, the Giver of these gifts. Then, instead of thinking of all the things that are ruining my day, I will find myself worshiping the One who packed my day full of such amazing blessings.

It can be hard work learning to discipline our thoughts. But it’s more than worth the struggle.

“We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.” (2 Cor. 10:5)

“Whatever things are true…meditate on these things.” (Phil. 4:8)

“For it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.” (Phil. 2:13)

“Oh satisfy us early with Your mercy, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” (Ps. 90:14)

Sleepless Nights

My eyes open to the rhythmic thud-thud-thud-thud of little feet, accompanied by the swish-swish of a diapered bottom. I throw back the covers and roll out of bed to intercept our daughter at the doorway, before she can climb under our covers and get too comfortable. I pick her up, and she snuggles against me sleepily. I carry her back to her room, tuck her under her own flowered blanket, hum a song, and kiss her head. Then I stumble back down the hallway to my own bed.

Ten minutes later, I hear the thuds and swishes again. Another sleepy snuggle, another hummed song, another kiss on the head.

Half an hour and three trips later, I finally tuck her into bed for the last time of the night. Slowly I sink back into blessed sleep. But then I feel a soft tap-tap on my check.

I jump and my eyes fly open to see that a little boy has appeared silently at the side of my bed. “I’m scared,” he whispers.

Back out of bed and down the hallway. He’s getting too big to carry now, but I still tuck him under his red quilt, pray with him to remind him that Jesus is with him, and hum another song while I rub his leg.

Back down the hallway to bed.

Five minutes later…

Thwack. Thwack-thwack. Thwack. The baby boy in the pack ‘n’ play beside my bed is kicking his tiny heels down into his mattress. His breathing, once silent, becomes noisy and irregular. I roll out of bed again, pop his binky into his mouth, and drop back into my bed, praying and hoping he’ll fall back asleep.

Silence…but only briefly. Then the breathing once again becomes noisy, and the sound gradually intensifies into a cry. Out of bed. To the couch. Twenty minutes later he is sound asleep, tummy filled and diaper changed.

I crawl under my covers, fighting back tears of pure exhaustion, debating whether or not to turn off my alarm. Those few precious minutes alone with Jesus before the kiddos awake are what carry me through the day. But yesterday I dozed off in my chair with every sentence I read.

I leave the alarm on, and hope I don’t hit snooze too many times. Then, almost instantly, sleep.

Can anyone relate? Perhaps, though, it’s not little people keeping you awake at night. Maybe it’s sickness, or pain, or an unfriendly work schedule, or just plain insomnia. Or maybe, you are getting plenty of sleep, but illness still saps your body of strength, and you drag through each day, exhausted.

I love Psalm 103:13-14 “Just as a Father has compassion on His children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust.”

He is mindful that we are but dust. He knows we are weak and frail and needy. What comfort!

But far too often, I myself forget that same truth. I expect to be superwoman, with a long list of tasks I expect to accomplish. But reality interrupts and I become frustrated. I have taken more upon myself than my compassionate God desires from me, and I have attempted to accomplish them in my own strength.

So God reminds me of my weakness. In reality, He’s been doing that every day of my life. The fact that we need sleep reminds us that we as humans are frail creatures. I love how John Piper puts it:

Sleep is a daily reminder from God that we are not God. Once a day God sends us to bed like patients with a sickness. The sickness is a chronic tendency to think we are in control and that our work is indispensable. To cure us of this disease God turns us into helpless sacks of sand once a day.

Isn’t God so good to build in that daily reminder? On top of that, certain seasons—sickness, raising little ones, etc—intensify that sense of need.

I NEED GOD.

I need Him to grant me the strength to face each day and each task.

I need His wisdom and direction to choose how to spend the strength He grants.

I need His grace to gratefully accept the sleeplessness and weariness and weakness as His gift to me, a blessed reminder of how essential it is for me to abide in Him.

I need Him. When I recognize it, when I ask Him, (and often even when I’m oblivious to my need!) He sustains. He enables. He stoops to help. And He keeps on reminding.

Isn’t He good?

“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him.”

Psalm 62:5

“For You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.”

Psalm 63:7-8