Everything today seems to be going miserably, and I'm feeling out of sorts about all of it.
It all started last night when the hubby and I had a heated and unsettling argument. No, let's call it what it was - a fight. How is it possible for a husband and wife to have such a nasty row when we were in agreement about the issue? I guess it all comes down to the semantics and their delivery, folks. I tell you - they're killer.
Probably because of the argument (no we didn't kiss and make up before going to bed), I slept poorly. Restless much of the night, I suffered through a cinema reel of bizarre and messed up dreams.
I stayed in bed later this morning than usual, because, well, I was just tired from that miserable night.
In general, I don't do "early morning" anything easily. This morning, though, I didn't do "later morning" well, either.
And, I was out of K-cups for the coffee maker. In that vein, let me just state that I do not possess a big enough mug for the amount of coffee I felt was required this morning. Today I could have used the maxim magnum monster mug.
Along with feeling generally out of sorts, today I'm not feeling physically well. An old and persistent ailment is giving me pain. Pain that I could really do without.
I did valiantly try to get on with my day. I tried to be productive and to get some work done, but business issues are continuing to confound me. I have this mantra that EVERYTHING IS FIGUREOUTABLE, but at this point I haven't figured out one iota of it.
I'm feeling lonely. (Usually I do whenever I have an argument with the hubs.) I sort of feel like I might as well go crawl in a hole and just eat worms. Nobody loves me.
And besides that, for the life of me, right now I cannot remember the last time somebody gave me a word of encouragement. There. That's obviously proof that nobody really cares about me.
I should probably just go and run away. To somewhere, anywhere. No, I don't really do any running these days; I'll just walk out. Get out of here. Get away from my problems. Actually, now that I think of it, those old achilles wounds are bugging me. I'll just limp away to somewhere and sit and lick my wounds.
Today, I'm pretty sure I am an insignificant, worthless specimen of the human race.
It's on days like this that I need to pack up my gear and go hunting. A day of hunting, catching, and killing is what's needed to alleviate what's ailing me.
At times like these when I'm about to slip over the edge of that crumbling precipice and fall headfirst into that black vortex of discouragement, isolation, and depression, I need to hunt.
Here's how I imagine it: When the destructive thoughts begin flooding my mind, I imagine myself leaving my physical body and hovering up somewhere in the air space above my brain. (I know
My weapon looks sort of like a superhero-sized butterfly net. Destructive thought emerges. I swing, flail, chase, swirl, swoop, reach, scoop, and do whatever it takes to "capture" it.
When my captured thought slams against the cross, it is immediately soaked in the blood of Jesus there, absorbed, and then eliminated. I'm free of it.
Today has been a heck of a hunt. Plenty of warfare, capture, and killing. I'm pretty beat up, but I'm gonna be fine.
Here's the reality. My personal way of visualizing this thought battle may seem silly, but look at this:
"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (2 Corinthians 10:5)
Furthermore, I've come home with no trophies from this exhausting day of hunting, for I've left them all with Him, and he's disposed of them.
He is the trophy, and I have HIM. For that, I am so grateful.
"Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." (Colossians 3:2)
I think Alexander just needed to learn to hunt.