I recently discovered I have a mild food allergy to peanuts. But this post isn’t about that at all. I’m referring to the other Peanuts, you know, Snoopy and Charlie Brown and the gang.
I posted earlier on facebook that I was Pigpen today. I was sanding down the textured walls of my bedroom and it was a big, cloudy, dusty mess.
It got me thinking more about Pigpen. What was his deal? Why was he always so filthy? Was it because he had poor hygiene, or was it something else they never really talked about, at least to my knowledge?
What if the philosophy behind Pigpen was simply, “Get in there and have an adventure and to heck with cleanliness”? I think too often I have portrayed Lucy instead in my life, wanting to push my ideas on people and boss others around in my struggle to maintain a false control. I remember her best for her doctor’s booth, I think she was a psychologist. She loved to sit on the sidelines and give advice while others did the work.
That’s been my own philosophy many times in home ownership, tell my husband what needs done and try to tell him how to do it. Just for the record–that never goes over well.
I’m going to change and become Pigpen-ish. I am going to step up to the overloaded plate set before my husband and start taking on tasks, no matter how hard or unpleasant, to ease his burden and to live a life of action. After all, didn’t Christ call us to the action of service?
Which Peanuts character do you most identify with and why?
Our new house is nestled on a high bank beside a river of humanity called Highway 18. The sound of traffic is constant. Sometimes the river flows fast and furious–rush hour–and sometimes it slows to a near trickle–late at night, early mornings, etc.
Luckily a jungle lies in between our house and the river. Yes, I’m well aware that Washington state does not have jungles, although it does have rain forests. The property slopes into a valley of tangled vine maple, berry bramble times a million and in general a twisted mass of shrubbery. About an acre of our property is like this.
Last week I began to hear the jungle noises, mainly that of tropical bird calls. Hallelujah there have been no monkey sightings, although I am on the lookout for sasquatch. But back to the birds.
I have begun to hear bird calls I’ve never even begun to imagine emitting from the jungle most days. Your guess is as good as mine as to what bird is calling–unless of course you are a birder, in which case please come visit and help me identify the calls.
The traffic is still ongoing, the river is more likely to flood than hit drought, at least at current gas prices and commutes, but I am tuning into the birds. I am choosing to concentrate on them instead and be amazed by God’s creation. The birds are whistling, singing and warbling their praise, reminding me to praise my Creator as well.
As you flow along in your own river of humanity, are you just making noise, or are you contributing to the symphony of praise all around us on this great planet? If you find you are not, what is keeping you from it? What do you need to do differently?
Mirrors, mirrors on the wall, who’s the daringnest of them all to remove them off without a fall?
I have a wall of mirrors in my new house. Or I did have one. I removed around thirty one foot mirrors today in the smallest bedroom of our house. It was scary. They were taped on and I had to pry them off one at a time all the while hoping they wouldn’t crack or shatter.
Suprisingly, only one shattered, and that was because I dropped it. Several of them cracked but most came off without cracking up. I didn’t crack up much during the process either.
I slowly watched myself disappear as I removed each panel of mirror. So many reflections of myself visible, so many angles, so many different perspectives. One by one I was swallowed up. Behind the wall of mirrors was a yellow wall. Immediately the room seemed darker and smaller.
I kept waiting for some grand revelation through the mirror removal process. The only thing I came up with was this: Christ calls us to die to self, to remove all of our own perceptions of who we are in order that we may be ready to embrace who He wants us to be.
At the end, the wall was a blank slate. Hopefully by my end, the selfish, sinful Laura parts will all disappear, replaced by the glory of God.
So, what would you do with a wall of mirrors? And what do you think I should do with my blank slate (it’s in our office room)?