INSOMNIA

" . . . he would go home to his room. He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it." So ends Hemingway's famous short story, "A Clean, Well Lighted Place."

Many do have it. Who has not lain awake at night struggling to go to sleep? Who has not awakened in the dead of night, wide-eyed and unable to go back to sleep? We all have. The reasons for our having insomnia are probably as diverse and complex as each of us is, so I am not as much concerned about analyzing why we are victims of insomnia as I am with trying to decide how to deal positively with it.

What to do about it? Well, first of all, don't panic! That is what I used to do --always. I looked at the clock. It was 2:00 a.m. and then 3:00 a.m. and I knew I had to be awake at 6:00 a.m. I thrashed and turned and twisted and desperately tried to force myself to "go to sleep." Never worked. Simply got me into a worse state with tightened muscles and stiff lips.

So I began to think about what else I could do. First, I decided to relax."So it is 2:00 a.m. So what? Tomorrow at this time it will be 2:00 a.m. again, and I will probably be sleeping like a baby." That's a comforting thought and helps me be more philosophical about this immediate situation.

As I try to be creative, various remedies suggested by other people ramble through my mind and are discarded, one by one. Warm milk? No, thanks. Something to eat? Not hungry. Hot cuppa tea with chamomile? Ugh!

But, over time, here are two things I have tried that did work for me.

One: I get out of bed, shrug into a comfortable robe, and, depending on the season of the year I sit down somewhere. In the springtime, I slip outside on to the patio. I look up in the clear spring night at the moon radiating a soft glow over trees and shrubs, throwing interesting shadows around the area, pull up a comfortable lawn chair, and sit there. Just sit there. I sit for a considerable period of time and just let my thoughts flow over and around me. I don't worry trying to sort things out, or find solutions to problems, or do anything. I just sit there,enjoying the aloneness, the quietness, the beauty of the night.

In the winter I sit in my comfortable bedroom chair. And I do the same thing: I just sit. I let my thoughts go where they will. Sometimes my mind flits into the past and I think of lovely things that have happened to me. Occasionally, I wonder about the future, but not for long. The present is much more interesting. Sometimes I talk to God about friends or situations that concern me, or better still, I just talk to God.

The second thing? Well, this is a tricky one and I use it only very, very seldom because it involves another person, and that person must be a very special friend. And it can only be used for "early night insomnia." Never try it after midnight!

But if I am awake at twelve o'clock, this is what I have occasionally done in the past. I call this Very Special Friend and the conversation usually goes something like this:

Me: "Hi, Agnes, are you awake?

Her: "I am now, the phone just rang and woke me up."

Me: "Oh, yeah.(Pause) Well, I'm okay; no serious problem here."

Her: "I see." (an annoyed voice) "You just felt the need to call someone at midnight?

Me: "Not just someone, Agnes, YOU. You are my special friend, y'know."

Her: "Oh, yeah! (slighty mollified tone) Well, then just tell me why you called this Special Friend.

Me: "I can't sleep, and (hurridly) I justneedsomeonetotalkto."

Her: "Okay, okay, let's Talk, Friend."

And we did. For about 45 minutes. Then she hung up.

And I felt marvelous. Actually, I don't remember much about what we had talked about, but the end result was that I was happy and relaxed and I flopped over and was asleep in five minutes.

So. What about Insomnia? What about Sleep?

Both are a part of our human experience, and we can use both of these phenomena to our advantage. Can't sleep? Use the time to think and enrich your mind, to be thankful and enrich your spirit, to meditate and marvel at the life you have been given. Can sleep? Be grateful and enjoy it!!!

Bits and Piecers

I have decided I will write more blogs this year. I am doing it just for myself because I enjoy writing and trying to express some of the ideas that roll in and out of my brain periodically. Some thoughts are fairly inane (how cute my pet dog is), or more thoughtful, (how lucky I was to get this cute dog) or more profound, (did God have something to do with my getting this cute, loveable dog?)

What I like to do is set up questions or make comments or present arguments or just "get something off my chest" by writing about it. There is something theraupetic for me about "writing down the word."

Here are some questions I would like to discuss with myself: What kind of a God do I believe in? Why do I find it easier to like, even love, people of all kinds now than I used to? How do I make meaningful the limited time I have left in the world? (This is not a morbid thought; it is a realistic one) Why do some people have such horrible, tragic lives, while others are so obviously blessed with good lives? What are some things that make me really, really, angry? How do I walk the narrow line between being controlled by a desire to make people like me, and the
desire to be just who I am, warts and all?

I could go on and on, and probably will as long as I have the mind and physical strength to get to the computer and expound.

Okay? Okay. Now how about them dreams I have been having? I seem to have dreams all alike coming in clusters and lasting for a long period of time. Only 4 years ago up until about this past year, I constantly had nightmare dreams of someone trying to kill me. I would wake up Bill with my frenzied screaming as a monster person was slashing at me with a huge knife. Sometimes I was in my house, trying frantically to close all doors and windows before the destroyer (sometimes the Mafia) got to me. I could never make the house safe; I was always about to be killed.

Then this past year I have been dreaming that I am back in college, trying to get to my class before the students leave, and i laboriously plod along, not even sure where my classroom is, until, exhausted and worn, I get there and all the students are gone. Or I am back in grad school, and I am heading for an exam and I have never opened the textbook to study.

It is getting crazier. Last night I dreamed I had a part in a play that was to be presented to a large audience. I had NOT read the play, I COULD not move my legs and arms to get me moving toward the theatre, some good folks came for me and got my clothes ready for me to put on, which I was barely able to do and while I was telling them that I had no idea of what I was supposed to say. They gave me a printed copy of my dialog, pushed me on toward the theatre, but as I tried desperately to walk, my shoes were coming apart and the printed manuscript had dissolved into ashes. I got there, desperate and hurting all over, and decided since I had no idea of what to say I would just act like "an idiot old woman" and hope for the best. THEN I WOKE UP. Now just figure that one out, if you can.

P.S. My Christian friends remind me that God uses dreams in the Bible to get his message to human beings. If that is true today then would you like to know my conclusion to the whole matter? Simple. "I ain't no human being. I must be an alien who wandered in from outer space."

That's it, folks. Goodnite and pleasant dreams?

Be a Peach Tree

Lately I've been puzzled and a bit disturbed by some friends and other folks who are apparently very concerned about "doing enough" to be thought worthy of God, and to be sure of reaching heaven. Sometimes they smile sheepishly and say, "I don't think I've done enough to balance the books for entrance to heaven," or they say , in a semi-serious voice, "I'm not sure the good things I do are enough to get me through the pearly gates."

But these same dear friends will quickly avow, when asked if they are Christians that "Yes, I am. I have trusted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and I believe that He died on the Cross for my sins so that I may have eternal life."

Well, that pretty much settles things, doesn't it? We can confidently say "I am, You are, He/She is a Christian. But then sometimes we change the verb form and say something like this: I GO to church every Sunday, morning and night," or "I SING in the choir on Sunday morning," or I GAVE my tithe faithfully all last year, or I HELPED a poor street person to find a place to sleep," or I READ the whole Bible last year," or "I GET UP AND PRAY every morning at 6:00 a.m," or "Bless me, I TEACH a Sunday School class of ten year old boys." And doesn't that in a way suggest that we are DOING THINGS so that we might be acceptable to God and attain heaven? Could that be possible?

And before I am completely misunderstood, let me say that these are all good things that we very probably should be doing. But the problem arises when we begin to think that we MUST DO THESE, OR SIMILAR THINGS, if we are Christian; that, in fact, unless we DO GOOD THINGS, we may not make it to heaven! And if we are not careful, we will rachet up our DOING to the point that we are tired, weary, restless, worn out by our efforts, and still worried that we are not DOING ENOUGH. Our religious faith has become a burden.

Okay, so what does all this have to do with the title of this diatribe which is: Be a Peach Tree? I'm using the peach tree as an analogy to try and emphasize its likeness, at least in a few ways, to a Christian.

A peach tree doesn't become a tree until something happens to it; neither do I become a Christian until something happens to me. The peach tree, at first, is simply a lowly seed. And as a seed it will change only if it is planted in the ground. It doesn't turn the soil, prepare a row bed, or pick itself up and plant itself there, a good farmer does that. We do not, by our efforts, become a Christian, all of that work is done by a good and loving God.

Then the peach tree receives rain and sun from outside itself and growth begins. The winds may come and the storms blow, but the rain and sun and the soil have worked their miracle and its roots are strong and the peach tree stands. Finally, after time, that which a peach tree IS shows itself in a bloom and then a beautiful fruit. It has produced a peach because it IS a peach tree! AND IT HAS DONE NOTHING BUT BE A PEACH TREE!

AND SO IT IS WITH BEING A CHRISTIAN. That is what I AM, that is what YOU ARE, that is what SHE IS. And if that is what we ARE, it will not be long until a blossom and then a fruit will be the result of our being a Christian. We will just stand there, wherever we are, whatever is happening, JUST BEING A CHRISTIAN. Jesus tried to explain it by saying that we (Christians) ARE salt, we ARE light. Paul emphasised what we ARE when he said to the Galatian church that, "the fruit of the Spirit is love,joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulnes, gentleness and self-control." The point is I cannot DO love, DO joy, DO peace, DO patience, DO kindness, DO goodness, DO faithfulness, DO gentleness, DO self-control. But I can BE loving, joyful,peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, self-controlled.

I know what you are saying: The analogy is good as far as it goes, but it doesn't deal with the reality of the human will, choice, etc. etc. etc. and you are right, But an analogy can do only so much. And if it helps me to understand a spiritual reality, that's good enough for me.

And from now on, when I see a peach tree I will remember that what it is doing is just BEING a peach tree. And I will remember that what I am doing, and all I have to do, is just BE a Christian.

And so --- good night!

"It is what it is" "Things Are what they are"

I think these two phrases (see title) will be my mantra for the forseeable future. Like everybody else, I have spent hours worrying and fretting about "Tt is what it is."

Whether it has to do with health, family problems, church worries, the present quagmire that our country is slowly but surely sinking into, spiritual questions, a changing society -- you name it; I've worried about IT, thinking that in some mysterious, out-of-the world way, I might be able to do something to change things.

Well, I've come to realize the valildity of this statement: "it is what it is." Now, that puts me right in the middle of everything, because I live smack dab in the middle of what it is!

No escape from poor health, no escape from church problems, no freedom from responsibilities that I would rather not have, no ability to change (in any significant way) the slippery slope that our country is on, no magic wand to heal broken relationships, no miraculous salve to bind up and cure physical disease.

The unvarnished truth as I see it, is that I am only one of countless millions of human beings who sooner or later have to face up to the fact that "it is what it is." and "things are what they are." And a sober acknowledgment and acceptance of that reality seems to somehow stiffen my spine and enable me to say "Okay, so I will deal with IT!

And I do. I use whatever aids and props and encouragements I can find to help me along this difficult and onerous and sometimes frightening path. I use my Christian faith, I lean on my husband -- when he is not too tired, I use friends who love me, I call on my own children for strength,

I find truth in books, I find beauty in nature, I find love in some very unusual places.

"It is what it is," things are what they are," and this is LIFE.


Now ------- to be really, really honest: Those things are what I do ON GOOD DAYS!!

What I do ON BAD DAYS IS PRETTY UGLY. I don't spend much time in praying or reading my Bible because I don't think God is anywhere nearby and I"m not sure He has any interest in talking to me because I'm not interested in talking to Him.

If I'm with a good friend, I may open up a tiny bit but I usually just stew around and skirt around what's bothering me because I don't want my friend to see what a horrible person I am.

I surely don't share with my own children all of my confusion, my hatreds, my feelings of frustration and belligerence, my desire to get into my car and drive off into the sunset,leaving everybody behind!! Can't do that!! What would they think of their dear old Mom?

As for seeing beauty in nature??? Don't see anything but the blasted cold rain and the dreary day.

Find truth in books? There's no such thing as truth and if there were, on a day like this, I wouldn't know it if it slapped me in my face.


So where am I? What am I saying now?

I'm taking a deep breath and sighing big. I'm saying "it is what it is," "Things are what they are" and THIS IS ALSO LIFE. So ---- go figure!

A Tale of Two Dogs

I promised to write more blogs and I haven't done so. This is my attempt to catch up.

Some time ago we had a Shih Tsu male dog named Barney, and we loved him extravagantly because we had got him as a puppy and he was adorable. We hoped to raise him and keep him forever. But, Alas, Barney fell in love with me, but only tolerated Bill. That was okay up to a point. The time came when Barney did not even like Bill and in fact would attack him without provocation. And the day came when I had to tell my son to find someone to whom we could give Barney; he was too vicious to keep. And again, alas, my son who is very competent and acts decisively, found a place for Barney the next day. I sent Barney to a very lovely young lady who fell in love with him just as I had.

I was heartbroken. It is silly and foolish, I know, to fall in love with an animal but I had loved Barney and I missed him. I wrote a brog about that loss which helped me verbalize how I felt. I said something like, "Is it too much to ask for a dog you can love?" indicating I felt cheated and disappointed at the turn of events.

Then one day, several months later, out of the blue, my daughter said she had found another dog for me. Mary has been "finding" dogs for me since she was ten years old and has never given up the habit. Somewhat reluctantly and anxiously, I agreed to go and see the dog.

It was another Shih Tsu, an adorable blond girl dog with floppy ears and big eyes. I was completely smitten with her and we brought her home that day. We named her Maggie, and she has been the delight of both me and my husband. She chooses to sit in my lap most of the time, but will be equally happy with him while I am gone.

I have never known a more loving, cuddly, obedient, dog than Maggie. And we love her.

And by the way, how and why do you suppose this all happened? Is it sacriligious to suggest that I think God saw my disappointment, my heavy heart, and said to one of his angels, "Let's help out here; get Marie another dog, and be sure it loves both men and women."

I think that the God who knows the number of the hairs on my head, who knows the length of my days on this earth, who knows that I believe and trust in Him, cares for me so much that He chuckled when he gave the order for Maggie.

Back to Blogging, Dec.26,2009

I'm back to blogging because it gives me a venue to express thoughts that I can't express anywhere else, and that is very therapeutic for me! I sometimes think I don't have time to blog but that's like saying I don't have time to think, and that is a really pitiful condition.

Today I'm thinking that I am a wimpy Christian, and I want to talk about that for my own excoriation of spirit and consequent edification of soul! We have just got through the Babe in the Manger part of Christianity and I have slobbered along with everyone else over the beauty of the Babe in the Manger, the loveliness of the creche, the warm, fuzzy feelings we have toward the whole Christmas setting, and then toward mankind because the Angels sang about peace on earth and good will to all men.

And then the rest of the year, I am a complete wimp when it comes to letting those in my small world know how I really feel about being a Christian. First, I fail to declare my faith that it is Jesus, who is God Incarnate, who is my personal Savior and who is the potential Savior of the world. I quibble along with other believers who try to be politically correct and affirm that there might indeed be other ways to God than through the Cross of Christ. I don't dare say to believers and non-believers alike, what C.S. Lewis affirmed so strongly, that "No, either Jesus is the Divine and Unique Son of God, or He is a mad man or the greatest con artist the world has ever known." And if He is indeed Who He Claims To Be, then He is the only Redeemer of men's souls.

And the love that He has for all mankind is a redeeming love, which means to me that it is a costly, sacrificial, strong and everlasting love that reaches to the pits of hell to draw me out of the enslavement of my sin, and cleanse me and re-make me into what He desires me to be.

This redemptive love is not a warm, cosy, pathetic, self-abnegating, "you didn't mean to be bad" patting on the head of a "sorry I did it (and got caught)" so-called repenter. It is a love that cost the Everlasting, Eternal, God of the Universe, everything that He had and was!!! And that kind of love, if it is to redeem me, must be accepted by me on my knees before God and saying "I give You all that I am; all that I will ever be, and I trust you forever with all of my heart and soul."

The Christian faith is a gutsy, husky, all-or-nothing-at-all faith and it is not for sissies, or quibblers, or abnegators, or compromisers, or pie-in-the-sky-ers, or anyone who is unwilling to submit, finally, to the God of all the Universe, who does, in fact, love us redemptively.

This is what I really believe. Will I be courageous enough to share my faith with anyone who happens to enter my small, small, world, and will I let Him who is God do in my life what He wills to do?

I hope so.

This 'n That

I need to blog today because I am stuck here in the house for another 24 hours before I can get out in the sun again. My dermatologist put me through a procedure on Thursday to eliminate all the pre-cancers on my face, and after getting my face "fried," I have to stay inside for 48 hours. He really didn't "fry" it, but that's what it feels and looks like. Lots of red blotches and heat, and it has made me feel pretty punk. But, as my Mom always said, "This too will pass, Marie."

I spend so much time getting things done to me in my old age that life sometimes becomes pretty boring. Got the cataracts removed and now I can see (a miracle), and now we hope to have stamped out facial cancers, but I'm pretty sure something else will "fall off" soon and I'll be back on the doctor route again. Oh well, when Obama gets the health care program in place, I won't ever have to see a doctor again --- we spend far too much money in this country on old people and their ailments-- and we've got to stop that!

Two famous (?) people died yesterday: Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. I wonder at all the publicity and hoopla we Americans give to our entertainment stars demise. It's all a part of our American culture, I guess. Nevertheless, I feel saddened at their deaths; I'm not sure either one had a really happy life.

I really like a lot of the "things" our world has for us these days, and one of the most satisfying to me is this computer where I can write, and write, and write, for my own pleasure; where I can use email and correspond with friends at a moment's notice; where I can find information about almost anything with just a tap of a key. The tech world is a mystery to me, but I love the benefits I get from my sparce knowledge.

Kevin and Kathryn will soon be off to college and they will be missed by us. I'm glad for their going, but I worry (like any responsible grandma should) about the challenges they will face. I know they will do well, but I sometimes feel by them as I felt, many times, for my own three children. I wanted to wrap my arms around them, hold them close to me, and keep the world at bay so they would never be hurt. But I had to let them go; that's one of the tough things a parent has to do.

Life is good. At 87, I rejoice in the life I have now, and thank God for His blessings.