Lethargically Speaking

You know those days when everything just sorta goes blah? Ever had one of those months? Or feel so lethargic that the year feels that it was just incredibly consuming. I suppose it has to do with the number of albatrosses (or I suppose responsibilities) that I have.

Not taking up jobs at the churches is encouraged for teachers, however, no matter how many times I said no, I kept being asked, and it really seemed God wanted me to do so . . . I love being a part of the ministry and social events of my church, but when it seems my life is completely taken over by the church and school and I have no personal time. It's no wonder I am so vulnerable to every little cold bug that makes it way into the classroom on my 'lil pups (as I fondly call my students who are all part of The Pack, aka wolf pack).

I'm feeling bad for those who are closest to me at work and home. They get pulled into every little thing now. I bump and bramble about, everyone gets hit and scratched with me.

As I am sitting here, my friend and colleague is playing music on his computer and this song comes up, and it just fits so much how I am feeling as of lately. I started to chuckle and mentioned how it fits with what I'm saying and feeling. "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" song just emphasized that I felt like a tumble weed you can imagine while listening to that music, blowing about, and sometimes trampled underfoot.

What would I do without friends like G-. He smiled and said, "You know who decides which way the tumbleweed would go? . . . the wind" I'm sitting here thinking yeah, no kidding! He then points out that everywhere that tumbleweed goes, it plants seeds. YEAH! a little God intervention there with my feeling sorry for myself. Of course, then he says something to the affect that it dies before it sees any of the fruits of the seed. HMPH! But he's right . . . we don't know what the effect we have on others always, and won't know until after the second Advent of Christ. Even after death, the tumbleweed has planted seeds . . . what seeds am I spreading with my tumbling about?