I have a confession to make. No, two. Maybe, three.
This is not the post I wrote for today. That post got a big thumbs down from Dave. Just to make sure I got it, he stood at the door of my office and ranted about how he doesn’t want God to wrap him in a warm towel!
“Plus, it’s just filled with awful writing,” he said. “I mean, it’s a mush of love and grace and dying and crying. Once again, honey, are you trying to beat your men readers away with a stick?”
By the time he was done, I was laughing to tears.
See, crying. What’s wrong with crying? And forgive me, but I do want to put my head under God’s thundering waterfall of love and then have him wrap me in a towel. Who wouldn’t want that?
Here’s another thing. My sister loved it. Which means something here is good. Which means it might be fixable.
But Dave’s right about one thing. I take myself way too seriously. I want to solve the world’s biggest problems and greatest spiritual mysteries—in under 500 words.
So Sunday morning, I picked up my friend, Hafiz. And I remembered again the reason I love his poems. Here’s an excerpt from the one I read:
“Restlessness and a lack of peace
can play a vital part in your inner unfoldment.
If you ever become too complacent, too
accepting of your sorrow or shadow self,
the moon might fling a beehive into your
undies and that should wake you up.”
That woke me up, for sure. And it made me realize that God was awake, too—and he was laughing at me. Me with my sleep-smashed hair hoping for spiritual revelation and getting bees in my underwear.
He’s as bad as Dave, I swear.
It reminded me of what happened last Monday when I drove with a friend in her car to a luncheon in Denver to hear author William Cope Moyers speak on addiction.
He was great, I’m sure. But his wasn’t the lesson I remember. My friend, you see, recently got one of those new-fangled breathalyzers installed in her car, courtesy of the legal system. Every twenty minutes or so, this gadget would start to beep and she’d rush to pick it up so she could hum really loud and blow really hard into the mouth piece for about ten seconds—to prove she hasn’t been drinking alcohol.
The challenge for her, especially with me in the car, was to make it through without laughing.
Amazingly, she doesn’t resent the device at all. “It’s great for my ego,” she admitted. “I’m driving along and just as I’m thinking too much or taking life too seriously—it beeps and I get to feel ridiculous.”
Aha, you see?
Profound advice arrives, even without the waterfall of God’s love.
Just… Hum loud. Blow hard. Repeat.
P.S. In Dave’s defense, I want his honest reactions…and in the end, I always post what I think is right. On Wednesday, I’ll run the post in question… probably with the waterfall part still intact. 
I so need a car breathalyzer, not for drinking, but to lighten up. Wish they sold them at Target.
I love this and I’m sure that I will carry this thought and image in my head for quite some time, it brought a smile to my face and made me giggle out loud
. I definitely have a tendency to take myself too seriously so this was a great one for me. I will try to remind myself to hum loud, blow hard and repeat. Thanks for sharing Heather!
Lori, I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Funny how that happens. I think the other post just wasn’t quite there yet so God interrupted me and said, “Look! Over there! It’s a bird, it’s a plan, it’s bees in your underwear!” It worked. And now I’m ready to post the one with the waterfall…:) It’s one of those kitchen sink pieces, but what the heck. It’s what I have, my sardine…
Hmmm. All women in the comments.
Haha.
This is a fun post, and I’m sure your next will be, too. I’ve no bones to pick with either, but I’ve had a bee in my bonnet (no, not in my undies) about the subject of romantic analogies for our relationship to God for about 7 years now. If you’ll excuse my story, I was a member in good standing for 10 years in a church that maximized on the romantic angle and I saw horrible devastation as the years counted off (7 year itch, maybe?) Let me share some of my experience.
Infatuation is a lovely, consuming part of being human. It lasts a year or two in each of our lives, and passes on into something richer … more survivable. We simply cannot long endure the extended high that is young love. Five and ten years down the road we do little things that hint at and remind us of that fire, and in those moments we share a present joy. It’s a moment of flame when we throw another log onto the hearth and blow into the coals, but the bonfire has settled.
(I know we’re all different. I’ve known couples with strong marriages and full infatuation even years down the road, but I’ve known many, many more successful couples with a quieter fire.)
My church used phrases like, “beholding His beauty,” “embracing the Lord,” “passionate fire,” “bride and bridegroom,” “enfolding.” The language we (and I myself) used was the most passionate we could muster. We were expressing a fiery love, and we expressed it as strongly as we were able. I wish I could say that language made us faithful. It was satisfying, but it also created a hunger. We returned to the fire too many times and burned out.
Looking back, I find dozens of verses about faithful love, and only a handful using the passionate voice. Finding any verse about enjoying God’s presence as a physical thing (beholding, embracing, gazing) is like collecting hen’s teeth. We were trying to make a life of something that should be a season. It couldn’t last, and it didn’t.
So, all that said, I’ll celebrate with you your waterfall moments knowing the Lord. And I’ll stand as a stick in the mud for us to live on something more sustainable.
Wowsa. What an amazing comment! I feel like you spent a beautiful wad here on my blog when it should be published somewhere more visible. I think what you’re saying is so profound and true–the mud is as real as the waterfall that makes it. I love your perspective on our search for spiritual highs and romantic fixes. Thank You!
Thank you for taking the comment so kindly. I know it was off-topic, so it was extra kind of you to accept it graciously.
Oh Heather, I love your posts. I am so glad i discovered your place here. And I am stil laughing about the bees in the underwear poem!
Lori, I always smile at your name. I love it that when I see you I see you in a prayer closet. And I think of how I used to use my own closet to hide my alcohol instead of pray. And now I am overwhelmed with gratitude that my closet is not only wine-free, but almost organized. No need to hide in the mess anymore. And yes, don’t you love that line? He sounds so serious leading up to it and the wham! Such a crack up. So glad you are reading here, Lori. And I love reading you too! I need to catch up on my blog reading. So much talent and good words out there. Hugs, H
This is not so much your attempt at humor but your accomplished humor…I love the way you tell it…real, rolling along, just the way you see it, you tell the story, the backstory, the what’s in your peripheral vision and what’s deep whats shallow…humming and blowing and bees buzzing…you know over here at my place with all the monkeys on the loose, we find you knee slapping hee haw funny. You couldn’t do anything to make us love you more…do you like the royal we when in fact its just me. Makes it sound grander than I am. You would never do that…see you are so real and honest. And no I haven’t had too much caffeine today thank you ..just the right amount.
Wait a minute: WHY ARE ALL OUR COMMENTS COMING OUT IN ITAL? WHEN DID WE START TALKING THAT WAY? Hmmm. A bug I’ll have to find and fix. Thanks so much for this comment, Elizabeth. I love the royal WE! You crack me up. Love it. And I want some monkeys on the loose here, too. You make me smile. Thanks for your kind words today.
FIXED IT! We are no longer commenting all of us in itals. Wait, that was kind of cool. Not even sure what I did to make it happen or how I fixed it. Gotta love it.
I don’t have anything else 2 add. This is great, and one of the reasons I’ve never blogged. The first being, I don’t know how to blog, and the second being I’m not Philip Yancy or Brennan Manning. Yes, I have ideas, which seem to hit me in the middle of the night, but first & foremost, my husband will think I’m drinking if I get out of the bed in the middle of the night. If you only knew my ideas on the bejeweled and chocolate Cross….
Teresa, your comment makes me think you should blog! Love it. Especially that if you got out of bed in the middle of the night your might husband might think you’re drinking. I remember after I got sober how I’d get hit with panic sometimes when Dave would come home from work and I worried he’d suspect me… but it was just because I was so used to feeling guilty and ashamed I didn’t know what to do with being able to tell the truth. Surely, I had done something wrong…
Funny how that works. Never happens now, though. Thanks for reading, friend!
Reminds me of a few lines from some old song: Inside always leads to out, which leads to doubt, and hands us our heads on a platter. In a way I resent your capitulation to the male energy, but on the other hand I hope Dave knows he’d better watch himself. A female scorned is worse than bees in your underwear. I live surrounded by guy egos, and some days you just have to tell them to go, well you know. I’ll take three kinds of silliness before breakfast any day.
Love you lots, Linda
HA. Yes, Dave knows to watch himself–but he also knows how much I value his honest reactions. It’s a rare man who is willing to risk the truth: This post made me feel stuck in Grandma’s underwear drawer.” And I ask his opinion because often it’s easy to fix when I dont realize that I might by some language seem to be forgetting that an issue applies not just to women but men. I love your line about three kinds of silliness before breakfast. You’re my kind of girl and one of MY FAVORITE places to find silliness mixed with wisdom is your blog. Love ya, Heather
Good stuff, Heather. Thank you. It’s so easy to forget the importance of being silly, especially when you’re trying this growing up thing years too late.
Dave’s hilarious, by the way.
HA. There’s a great tile to counter The Importance of Being Earnest: The Important of Being Silly. You’re a genius!
LOL!.You so rock.
Humming along this morning… thanking you
Helen, aw thanks! I know, it was a bit hokey…
“I want to solve the world’s biggest problems and greatest spiritual mysteries–in under 500 words.” You know, I think a lot of us have an appetite like that, a passion like that. Perhaps that’s one reason why we love following you and walking with you here. Call this a confession. Maybe that means we need to worry about the bees and God and Dave too. The bees and God giggling about it, that’s unnerving. We’ll learn together like we always do. Are we saying something about ‘your’ public? Is it less generic than it ‘could’ be? Is that bad? Or, is that perfect? just wondering…
Surely if we obstruct the Holy Spirit’s freedom to use us we should fix that. Are you sure you should fix something that just amounts to who’s included in your ‘market?’ It makes sense to me that someone different would have to resonate with the way men relate to life. Why should a girl curb being a girl to try to make an ineffectual connection with men probably at the cost of the really vital connection she has with women? Some where along the line you’ll wind up with good writing that’s just words — no connections made. I think that’s tragedy. You and Dave know so much more about publishing and writing than I do, but I worry about this. It wouldn’t be good for you either.
Also, true perspective: You are grieving. Grieving people don’t do such tight, clean, topnotch work. They do awful work actually. David needs to cool it for a while. Sharon says so. You are going on as a professional, and in all your other capacities, but you are a bit disoriented and upended inside and that is certainly going to show in a writer’s work. The effect of trying to solve great problems and spiritual mysteries has more stress on it (only way I know how to put it) right now than it typically does. Maybe he should let you know when you are “mushy and ….” so that you can decide whether you want to alter it. Both of you need to understand that this isn’t who you are so much as where you are in this period. OK? Be careful of each other. I love you.
Sharon, what a meaty but tender comment. You really care about me, don’t you? I am so touched by your concern and you’re encouragement to Dave and I to be gentle with each other. In my attempt at humor, I probably made Dave come off worse than he really was or ever is. His advice is always invaluable and he’s so brave and kind to take the risk to tell the truth as he sees it. He cares a great deal about my blog. Really, it’s amazing how much. I think this comment here of yours is important, though: “Why should a girl curb being a girl to try to make an ineffectual connection with men probably at the cost of the really vital connection she has with women? Some where along the line you’ll wind up with good writing that’s just words — no connections made.” Hopefully, that doesn’t happen! What a scary thought. I am a woman and no bones about it, I write in ways that speak to women most and they’re the largest part of my audience. But I actually do hear from quite a few men and those regular readers who are male–I don’t and can’t pander to them, but I really do want to be aware of how I might easily temper something that by virtue of its dressing might seem to exclude them in reality, the heart of the message is one they could really appreciate. So it’s a bit of a balancing act. I am so grateful to readers like you who are invested in my blog enough to care about my heart and my message and want to protect it. Thank you SO much! That little note you dropped me while I was not blogging for a while–”missing you and praying for you”–meant so much. You are such a dear friend, Sharon. Thank you!
Dear Heather,
I didn’t mean to sound scary or hard on Dave. I’ve always loved him too. You did say you were ‘laughing’ to tears. I just know the grief thing makes it harder to handle this balance. I know how much he loves you and all that concerns you. You can’t miss that if you know him. He’s a man to respect and rejoice in.
I wrote that -before- going to bed rather than after rising.
Might I be forgiven the strident tone in certain spots?
thank you for your kind words
Oh Sharon, yes! But there’s nothing to forgive. I totally understood your heart and that’s what shined through. I love it when people feel free to just go off in their emails and not overthink or edit them. I am always thinking the best of every reader. But I do understand the second-guessing. The other day I accidentally left a comment for a blogger I admire that something like: “This is beautiful and honest! I could have written it myself.” HA!! I meant the two thoughts to be separate and the honest part was what I was responding to–but it came out looking like I am a total BRAGGART! Hilarious, really. Hopefully she understood what I meant. Thanks for writing again, Sharon. You’re one of my favorite people and I’m so appreciative of your presence here on my blog. And in my heart.
On Tue, Jan 29, 2013 at 5:04 AM, Heather Kopp
I SWEAR we’re on the same wave length, or ocean current. Or maybe we just need to hire a bee keeper! Ha. (Love your post as usual………. um, almost February, any flight plans yet? )
Love this comment. And no flight plans yet… I can’t believe it. I bet Nathan can’t believe it either. So frustrating, but I guess we’ll just get there when we get there. He gave us a video tour of the house, though–and it’s so cute. I love skyping with those two. But nothing replaces that hug. You know? A mother always misses her kids no matter how grown… Sigh. Loved hearing from you today! Love your blog, by the way. So fun that you’re doing it.
yep, I’ve settled into the realization that every post doesn’t have to the best one I’ve ever written or the most life changing. Just what He’s asking me to share, that’s it. And it’s enough.
Yep to your yep. Some days, it’s just nice to get a little personal and say here’s what’s really going on around here… I think that makes it easier and more meaningful for people to relate to the serious posts when they come. I want people to feel familiar with me, not just like I’m always spouting wisdom. You get it. Thanks for saying hi, sweet friend!