I have been slower to post lately. I am not exactly sure why. I only know I feel badly about disappointing thousands (I’m being modest, millions) of people waiting to hear from me. If the world is bored, that’s because of me. I’m sorry about that, you guys. I’ve been busy.
Do you like it when people say they’re busy? People LOVE saying that. Like, if I tell you that I’ve been busy this summer, instead of telling you that I’ve been spending my free time watching “The Bachelorette” and “Last Comic Standing”, you would think being busy sounds better, right?. I’ve been busy.
I might actually just be in a rut. I have been pretty nose to the grindstone this summer. And, then you have my awesome family. What a blessing to have them all home. What a blessing, indeed. What a blessing to see all those blessed dirty dishes they use, and the socks they toss off in a day. Blessing. Blessing. It is a blessing. Do I sound like I’m trying to convince myself?
Here’s the part where you tell me to have the kids pitch in and help. Make a chore chart, right? Give them their own duties. Compensate them for their work. See, I would do all that, it’s just that I have found complaining is easier.
All these summer messes lead to issues. I should be better at handling these issues. They are not new. I should be used to these issues. I might not fight it so much any more, but that doesn’t mean the mess and clutter don’t get in my head. I think a messy house leaves me feeling uninspired. So, really, if you want to be mad at someone for my lack of blog posts, be mad at my family. No. Don’t be mad at them. They’re really nice.
My brain isn’t firing up fresh insight to share on line. Instead, I’m writing notes like these:
The other thing that has me down is that I just realized Reggie isn’t a Christian. It’s true.
The other day, Reggie was whining and jumping. His pupils were dilated. He was worried because my purple bag. I take my purple bag on overnight trips. Reggie hates that bag. Reggie saw me with that bag, and started to hyperventilate.
Scott said, “Reggie, you know we always take care of you. Can’t you have a little faith?”
That’s the moment I knew it. Right there. That’s when I knew Reggie wasn’t a Christian.
We used to think Reggie’s bad behavior was the result of being high strung and untrained. Now I know. It’s because he doesn’t know Jesus.
Don’t even try to evangelize your dog. You’re just wasting your breath. I read him Bible verses, and tell him that faith in a higher power will help him not be so anxious. I’ve told him the story of Jesus, and explained all about His death and resurrection.
Reggie’s all like, “Meatballs?”
Then, I’m like, “Reggie, what are you even talking about? Can’t you pay attention for one minute, and stop thinking about food?” He can’t.
During supper this week, I walked away from the table to refill my water glass. I came back and Reggie was sitting in my chair. My food was gone. He ate it. Reggie was fine with that. He just looked at me, unblinking. From my chair. No remorse. The Holy Spirit is not acting as Reggie’s conscience.
I told him Christians don’t do that stuff. We’re going to have to keep talking.