Debbie Downer

Do you ever have a down week? You know, where you swim around in your deep pool of self-pity for a while? Well, I did this week. I had one of those weeks where everything in life was just horrible. My motto for the week was "Ho hum. Where's the chocolate?" I'm usually a pretty happy and positive person, but from time to time, I become "Debbie Downer".

I believe Movies and TV entertainment are the reason that I wallow in my sorrows. They are so far from reality. They make everything seem so great, magical and perfect on the big screen. A man, who looks as good as Josh Duhamel, always saves the day and gets the girl. I started to think about it in my "Debbie Downer" mindset. I am not even a lead role in my own movie of life. I am the Supporting Actress. Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever feel like your family and friends have the great lives that make the movie, and you are just there to add a little flavor to their plot? I do. All the time. I have even been told by quite a few people that I remind them of the character Alan off of "The Hangover" and Meredith off of "The Office" which are both supporting roles. I did one of those silly quizzes on Facebook and I got that I was the character Bernice off of "Designing Women"...which she wasn't even in all of the episodes! Normal girls dream of being a rock star.My dream was that my sister would be a rock star, and I would be her back up singer. Am I destined to always play the supporting role in life? Am I just here for comic relief? Will I ever get to play the lead?

As I walked out my back door to smell the fresh crisp air that the snow had brought, my mind was triggered with a memory. You might realize that this happens to me a lot. I believe that at times like this when I am being absolutely ridiculous in my "Debbie Downer" thinking, God decides to distract my brain with a happy moment. With His great sense of humor, He triggers my mind with some laughter. This was the story He used to pull me out of the depths of my self-pity.

It was a warm day in the fall, and the sky looked like it was painted just for me. I was in a rush to get to my second job for the day. I was getting everything together. I frantically checked the iron to make sure it was off, locked up all the doors and went to my car. I got in the car, and could not find my keys anywhere. I dug through my purse in a panic. At that moment, I remembered that I had laid my keys on the table beside the door. My keys were locked inside the house. Urg! I was furious. Most of you have heard of this evil thing called "The Redheaded Temper". I have one. I just don't like for it to come out in public. But when I'm all alone and no one else is around, I can pitch the biggest hissy fit you have ever seen. It's even worse when I'm mad at myself. So at this point, my face was red. Words were being said. Sounds and grunts were being made, and I was frantically checking every door to see if I could have possibly left one door unlocked. No luck. Evidently, I did a very thorough job of locking the doors. "Way to go, Dana." I think God thinks it's funny when I lose my temper. I think it's funny too...after the fact.

There were people that had a key that I could call, but I knew all of them were preoccupied, and by the time they would have gotten there I would have been really late. So I thought outside the box. I quickly did a few laps around the house trying to think as if I were a thief. I looked and studied all the windows, doors and openings I could find. I tried to remember all the movies where someone broke into a house..."Come on Dana...think!" Suddenly it came to me...I could crawl through the doggie door!

Just imagine. At this moment, God was up there gathering all His angels around, giggling and saying, "Watch this. This is about to be hilarious."

There was a thick plastic sheet that went onto the inside of the doggie door so that the dogs could not come in during the day. So first I had to kick out the plastic. I laid down on the deck and my 2 big dogs kept coming up to me licking me and sniffing me. With anger, I lifted the flap of the door and pushed the plastic out with my foot. Now to go through the doggie door. I thought about it for a minute...How would be the best way to do this? Feet first? Head first? I made a quick decision to go arms first, and then my head. I stuffed my cell phone in my bra thinking that if the top half of my body gets stuck I could reach in and call 911. I had it all planned. I went for it. First my arms...then my head. Both went in smooth with no problem...Then came the shoulders. I have what they call football shoulders. My sister and I were both blessed with them...Thanks Dad. I straightened my arms to make my shoulders thinner and was able to squeeze through with just a few scrapes. Then came my chest. I am not as "blessed" as other women in that area, but in this instance I was more "blessed" than I wanted to be. I pushed...I squeezed...I sucked in...I pushed again. Crap! I was stuck! Panic filled the inside of me and my claustrophobia began to peek its ugly little head out. AHH! I kept pushing and pushing. I even tried pulling the opposite direction to get free. Not even a budge. I rested for a second. Just to make things worse, the whole time this was happening my dogs had been sniffing me and licking my legs on the outside of the house. At this point, I couldn't help but laugh. I imagined God was belly laughing on the floor in Heaven. I yelled, "You're getting a real good kick out of this one, aren't you Lord?" I pushed again and again. Finally, pop! It definitely hurt, but my chest made it through! I sucked in and squeezed my stomach through without any problems. Then, came my hips. It was a tight squeeze, but they made it through with only some scrapes on the sides. Finally, I had made it! I laid on the floor for a moment in pain, laughing and thanking God that I didn't have to call 911. Could you imagine Firemen coming to my back door seeing my rear end stuck in the doggie door? That would have been so embarrassing! I got up, went and got my keys and was on my way.

I continued to smell the air of the snow as I laughed about this moment in my life. As my dogs came jumping towards me, God reminded me of a few things.

I will always play the Supporting Role in life. God is suppose to always have the Lead part. It's His movie and I should just play my role in His movie. I know God doesn't need me. He can do anything. He is all powerful. His movie is great whether I'm in it or not, but it's nice to know that I can add to His movie. Maybe I can add some comic relief, and try to make the movie even better. I would like to think that my life is scenes out of His movie, and God enjoys those scenes. He's always watching them, and He cares what happens.

I know all my scenes are not perfect. I'm sure quite a bit of the time, He is disappointed in my acting. But I would like to think that every now and then, I can make God smile. Maybe He would turn to an angel or two and say, "Remember the part in My movie where Dana gets stuck in the doggie door? That was hilarious." I think it would be great if God could say, "I like the scene where Dana does that random act of kindness."

So I'm going to put out the effort not to be "Debbie Downer" so often. I don't want God to be disappointed in my acting all the time. I just want to make God smile. What do your scenes look like?

My Walk

This past Saturday was an absolutely gorgeous day. The high was 65 degrees, and the sun was out. I just love to be outside. I am one of those people who craves the sun. Which is very odd since I'm a redhead with fare skin and tend to burn. At times, I wish I had been born in the olden days where they were always outside, and they churned their own butter. You better believe that if I had lived back then, I would have made the best butter in the county. That's how everyone would know me..."The Butter Lady". Anyways, it was absolutely beautiful, so I decided to go to the park.

I started down the 2 mile loop. I looked at the time because although I had decided to walk leisurely, I am very competitive with myself and wanted to time my walk. No one was around at the moment, so I started off my walk with my eyes closed. I felt the warmth of the sun hit my face in between each skinny tree, and my feet were stirring up the leaves on the pavement at a steady pace. I smelled the air. It smelled just like softball season. All of a sudden, I had the urge to be out on the field playing catch or hitting some balls. The beauty of the day made me stop, and I whispered, "Thank you, Jesus." I opened my eyes as soon as I heard voices. I didn't want people to think I was crazy walking around with my eyes closed. Although, we all know that I am. I glanced at my time and decided to pick up my pace on this leisurely walk. A little ways down the path, I started to warm up. I decided to take my hoody off, and as soon as I did, I felt a breeze. A combination of my sweat and the breeze sent memories flowing through my head of my time in Mexico. That's when I began walking down memory lane.

Side note... About 5 years ago, I lived in Mexico as a missionary for about 8 months. I taught English and helped out the church down there.

Pictures of my time in Mexico were scrolling in my mind like a slide show. I looked at my feet on the pavement and was reminded of the dirt roads down there. It brought me straight to this memory...

I was walking to the Pastor's house after checking my internet at the "Internet Cafe" in the plaza. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to tell Conchita (the pastor's wife) that I had ran into Chris at the cafe. Chris was a missionary in a town about an hour and a half away. He was from Ohio and earned his living as a deep sea fisherman while sharing the gospel. I think I had a crush on him because he was the only English speaking American for miles and miles...and there is just something about a fisherman. So, I couldn't wait to tell Conchita. As I continued walking to her house, I practiced the Spanish I would need to tell her this exciting news. I got to her house and swung open the door. I was shocked at first because she was breast feeding and was not covered up. I should have been used to this by now, but I think I will always be shocked when I swing open a door and see a boob. Finally, I looked at her and said, "I saw Chris!" While still holding on to her little girl, she jumped out of the rocking chair and responded with a look of shock, "You saw Chris?"
"Yeah, I saw Chris."
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"What did he say?" She was way more excited than I was, and I wasn't sure why.
"Well, we just talked for a little bit, but he said that he was coming to our church on Sunday."
"What does he look like?"
At this point, I was confused. She was the one who introduced me to Chris. She knew what he looked like.
"Well, he was wearing his glasses, and he had his jeans and a t-shirt on." I didn't know what else to tell her.
"Chris?"
"Yeah. You know, the American."
She dropped to the rocking chair in laughter. I was so confused. All I could do was smile and laugh along with her, but I didn't know why we were laughing. At this point, her daughter had given up on her and Conchita had tears flowing out from laughing so hard. I couldn't figure out what was so funny. After she gathered her composure, she said, "Dana, it's Cristobal. Not Cristo." In Spanish they say the name Chris as "Cristobal". Well, I must have gotten a little mixed up with my Spanish, and I kept saying "Cristo" which means Christ. The whole time we had been talking she thought I had seen Christ. She thought Christ would be coming to church on Sunday and that he would be wearing his glasses. We just laughed and laughed and laughed some more.

As I continued on my walk, I noticed that I was giggling out loud about this memory. There were many times while living in Mexico that I would become frustrated not knowing the language, but this time, it was a good moment. I got to the bridge, and I knew at this point I only had 1/2 a mile left of the 2 mile loop. I walked out to the middle of the bridge and decided to take a minute and look out at the lake. I glanced at my phone to check my time. As I watched the ripples in the lake, I thought about how sometimes I feel God speaks a different language.

Sometimes when you've been praying for something for so long, you start wondering if He can hear you or if you're not asking Him correctly. So, just like you would to someone speaking a different language, you begin to talk slower and louder. You pray with detailed emphasis, and you pray harder. Sometimes you may even scream at Him thinking He can't hear you. Usually, the whole time He is speaking back to you. He might be saying, "Just wait for my perfect timing." Or maybe He is giving you an answer to a solution that you have been longing for, but you can't understand Him.

When I first moved to Mexico, I only knew a few phrases in Spanish. The longer I lived there, the more I understood and could speak. I started studying the language. Soon, I felt confident enough to have lots of conversations with the people in Mexico. I never became fluent, and when I returned home I didn't use my Spanish as much. Now, I am noticing that I have lost a lot of the Spanish I had learned.

I started thinking about the times that I have heard and understood what God was saying to me. Each time, I was close to Him in my walk. I was studying Him and His word. My life was surrounded by Him. Then I thought about the times I so desperately wanted to hear from Him. At those moments I was more caught up in the answer I wanted than actually hearing from Him. I had lost my language with Him.

As I got off the bridge and began to walk again, I decided to stop worrying so much about the answers I want or need. I decided to start learning the language of God. I know I'll never become fluent, but I can't imagine the joy I will receive by trying to be. As I came to the end of my walk, I thought to myself, "Am I the only one who has trouble understanding God?"

So I ask you this...Do you speak God?