Monotony and Daisies

My greatest trial is monotony.

Lots of people are going through terrible catastrophes and heartaches right now, but my greatest foe (seemingly) is monotony. I fear it. Sunday night bedtime comes and I already dread showering on Monday morning.

I wonder why I hate showering so much. After all, I love to be clean. I need a shower every morning because I can't stand the layers of adolescent oil that coat me from head to toe when I wake up. Every time I shower, though,at some point I find myself getting antsy and impatient. Isn't there a short cut? Can't I skip the deoderant this morning? (no!) I feel the drive to get onto more important things. Such as laundry.

The big scare comes when I think it through and realize that most of my 24 hours each day is spent in monotony. Eight and a quarter hours are "wasted" on sleep (I've tried to shave it down to less, but then end up cranky, flaky, and drained.) Preparing food and eating takes time. So does showering, dressing, doing laundry and some dishes (that's not my particular chore) and keeping my room in reasonable order. Then there's the matter of excercise. I finally figured out that it is indeed necessary.

Then I want to schedule things, and create more monotony for myself. Let's make sure we write something every day, blog something every day, practice Russian, memorize verses or poems, do teaching stuff, and read something. And don't forget quiet times!

Lately, through books, sermons, people, and...God...I've been thinking about faithfulness in the little things. What purpose can God possibly have in my spending five minutes in the morning putting on makeup? Why am I so ticked over five minutes? Well, it all adds up.

Two things have spoken to me on this matter:

"If I partake with thankfulness, why then am I slandered concerning that for which I give thanks? Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God." 1 Cor. 10:30-31

"Repitition, far from signifying deadness, may signify delight, desire, and vitality...[children] want things repeated and unchanged. They always say 'do it again'...It may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy , for we have sinned and grown old..." (emph. mine)

-- G.K. Chesterton (a quote from a book I was reading by someone else)

When I read these things I was flooded with a sense of the Old Joy. The bittersweet Joy of long fall afternoons grubbing around the creek bottoms with my cousins in a comfy checkered flannel shirt and semi-ragged jeans. You never want those days to end. You want them to go on and on happening again and again, and the greatest tragedy is when you become a seventh grader and suddenly feel selfconscious digging in the mud with your boy cousins.

So where has the Old Joy gone? I get the sense that God doesn't mean for us to quit having it just because we aren't eight years old any more. I mean, what difference is ten years, anyway?

Isn't it bazaar that God has been making the same flowers in the same places at more or less the same time every year for thousands of years and hasn't gotten tired of it yet? If it were me, I would say "Enough with the flowers already, let's try something else." I think I'd invent a few new laws of physics or another whole world, for that matter! Good grief!

When I think about the Patience of God, I'm astounded, surprised, ashamed, melted, assured, relieved, and encouraged all in one fluid succession. His delight and faithfulness in arranging the dew drops every morning quite justifies spending a little time putting on my makeup each day, and thanking Him for it :)