We are having our master bathroom remodeled. Mike McNair is doing an excellent job and is very nice and always cleans up at the end of each workday...BUT...there is dust all over in the master bedroom, I can't do my housework in my jammies in the mornings because there will be carpenters running around, I have to go down the hall to use the potty. And it affects my motivation. I mean, really, why clean up the kitchen when the master bedroom is a mess so the whole house won't be clean? And, those dogs keep the laundry room a mess, so why bother with the living room?
Last Friday I had enough. I guilted Paul into helping me rearrange the furniture in the living room. If any of you knew my mom, she was a Remodeler Extraordinaire. One time, legend has it, she moved a hide-a-bed up a flight of stairs all by herself. While I'm not in her league, I love to rearrange and can do it by myself, usually. (I don't like Loy to help me. He has the annoying habit of wanting to know where everything is going to go BEFORE we move it! Can you believe that guy???) I scoot all sorts of furniture all over. Sometimes I sit down with my back up against something heavy and just push. Sometimes I lift just a little and slide those mover-thingies under the furniture so it'll be easier. I'm good.
But the living room entailed moving the piano and some tall bookshelves. And the bookshelves needed to go through a doorway that was shorter than the shelves. So, I needed my muscle.
I wasn't sure that Paul would really want to help me, so I was prepared with my rebuttal..."Paul, I drove all the way to Sioux Falls to help you move in...you owe me." (I did NOT, however, play the "I gave birth to you" card. I'm saving that one!) But he obliged and I really didn't even need to twist his arm.
And so the big move began. I would empty off a shelf and then tell him where we were going with it. He would say encouraging things like, "Mom, just LIFT it. Don't slide it." He's got no idea of the strength level (or lack thereof) of my flappy arms. I'd answer with, "Just scoot it. We'll get there." Sometimes he would say, "Just let me do it." Other times he would lift his end and I would just push as hard as I could to help him out a little.
He DID make comments about how I had told him I needed help with two pieces of furniture and then expected him to move it all. Well, geez, he was there, wasn't he? Was I supposed to have him help me with just the two and then sit there and watch me struggle??? I'm OK with doing it on my own, but not when there is big muscle around.
We did it. The living room is neatly rearranged and I feel so much better. Nothing like rearranging to make your room feel clean. All the shelves are neatly organized and dusted. I vacuumed the baseboards and organized the remotes. It's great!!
So, then, in my newfound empowerment, I joined Curves last week. (For those of you who don't know, that's a women-only gym chain. 30-minutes and you've done a circuit that works on each muscle group in your body.) I haven't done anything except for walking in several years and I was feeling like my muscles were tightening up while I sat here and watched them. So Friday I went and had the spiel and signed a year-long contract.
Monday was my first trip to actually exercise. I had to have an appointment for that time so that someone would walk around the circuit with me, explaining how the machines worked. I think they are very well trained people in the art of making middle-aged women feel like they want to come back. As near as I can figure, I was the best exerciser she's EVER had!! Imaging that!
One of the fun things about Curves is that you have this little key card and you can put that into the machines you use and it tracks all your details--how many repetitions you did, how hard you worked, your pulse, what you had for breakfast, (oh, I guess not that last one). But they won't let me use it until they are sure I know how to work all the machines. Bummer.
So I went back today to exercise and they would "keep an eye on me." She only had to tell me a few things every now and then. A "move your feet out" or "only rotate 45 degrees on that one." I thought I was doing great. I commented on how I looked forward to using my little key card. She said, "Yes, you'll get there." Sigh. I want to use my little card and see how good I'm doing. Oh, then she added, "And once you get the hang of the machines, you'll need to really push yourself." I thought I was. I guess they only use the major encouragement the first time you go! :)
So, amidst the chaos that is my life right now I have a clean, rearranged living room and am exercising. It's something, right?
The bathroom is supposed to be mostly done this week--after that just waiting for the vanity tops and shower door to be delivered (they had to be ordered). Then I'll reorganize the vanity drawers and dust my bedroom. I'll probably be motivated to reorganize my closet, too. I'll relish sitting around eating breakfast in my jammies.
I'm reading in Ephesians lately. Today I was struck with how our very salvation was all from God. It's not me, it's Him. I always seem to have the impression that "it's all about me." Just like I wanted to be in control of my living room and bathroom and some part of my life, I want to be in control of how things work in my Christian walk. I want the power. I want the control. Me. Me. Me.
Once, a long time ago, someone spoke at Berean and used this illustration (well, sort of this illustration. It was a long time ago.)
I want to think of a list of what I'm going to accomplish in my life. Things like: 1) do a short-term missionary trip somewhere in the US; 2) start a ministry helping new women to our church feel welcomed; 3) see to it that all my children and grandchildren really KNOW God.
These are all good goals. All wonderful Christian things. So, I give this list to God and say, "OK, God. Sign off on all this. It's all good."
But, you know, He doesn't want to sign my list. He doesn't want to help me--like I'm the master and he's the apprentice. He wants to give me a blank sheet of paper and say, "Here, Kitt. Sign this. I'll fill in the details later." And I don't want to do that. I want to know. It's about me and I have a right to know, right?
Nope. It's all about God.
I want to make up my mind right now that I will trust God no matter what. I don't want to have to think about it when tough things happen. I trust God.
I just wanted you all to know that.
Here's a recent picture of Loy and me. He's the one with the white beard!! :)
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