Finishing Well

The title for today's blog has nothing to do with how I am feeling other than making me focus on Him and quit feeling sorry for myself.

My church is starting a new drama ministry and I want to be a part of it as a writer. I emailed the man in charge some of the skits I wrote when I was going to my dad's church in Texas almost ten years ago. I wrote three, but only one was going to be used by the church. It was one of the pastor's last sermons and the title of his sermon was called Finishing Well. My skit was a one person skit and the woman was at a carnival where they had a finishing well. You could make a wish and redo any one past mistakes of your life. She contemplates which sin to correct. In the end, her only wish was that she had turned her life over to Jesus. She thinks it's too late, but it's not. She finishes well.

The skit was never used, though. It was cut due to lack of time.

Anyway, before writing my blog, I emailed the skits for consideration. Glad I did. After such an unusually good day yesterday, I had a bad day today.

I could not sleep again last night. Mom and I tried sleeping in the attic. I thought a change of venue would help. It did not.

This morning, I felt sluggish, but still decided to go out for breakfast. I had eggs over medium, hash browns, and pumpkin pancakes. I LOVE anything pumpkin and LOVE mixing up the eggs and hash browns. Not today, though. The spice in the pancakes did not taste good to me and the butter and eggs made me sick to my stomach.

Two more items on my cannot eat list - butter and eggs.

Between the lack of sleep and more of my favorite foods on the ever growing do-not-eat list, my mood quickly turned even more sour than it was Friday morning.

Mom made an appointment to get her hair done and as I drove her to her appointment, she tried to instigate conversations. I gave her one or two word replies and felt my anger bubbling up. It had nothing to do with her, but I just knew I was going to end up saying or doing something to hurt her feelings.

Before I did so, I told her I was glad she was there with me and apologized for my mood. She understood.

When we got home, I put on my pajamas and went straight to bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep. I slept maybe twenty out of every sixty minutes. My anger turned to self pity and I found myself, for the first time in a very long time, pleading with God to take me home. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to have to do this anymore.

My mom left for church and Mike left to meet a friend for dinner. Although not hungry, I knew food may settle my upset stomach. I made some noodles - no butter or sauce or meatballs - plain noodles with a little bit of salt and cheese. It did make my stomach somewhat better.

Instead of going back to bed, I came up to the attic to find those skits, email them, then post an update on my blog. Glancing over that skit convicted me of my behavior. Instead of feeling sorry for myself because God won't take me home, I, like the woman in the skit, need to focus on finishing well. I cannot know His reasons, but I have no doubt He has them.