My Swami Named "Straw Head"

My younger sister and I tormented each other as children. We were highly sophisticated at it, too. All I had to do was refer
to her corn silk blond hair as "Straw Head", and all hell would break loose. I was brunette and she would retaliate with a zinger: Poop Head! And so it would go: "Straw Head!" "Poop Head!" "Stringy Straw Head!" "Poopier Poop Head!" (And then one of us would shove the other down the stairs and mom would have an apoplectic fit, and such was the rhythm of our lives.)

I write this so you might share in my amazement that rotten little sisters can transform into mature women, capable of dispensing wisdom akin to that of the proverbial sage in the cave on the mountaintop. Gasp.

JD, I am endebted to you for paving the way to the epiphany I had tonight.

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I have been anguished during these past weeks...wanting to be in ministry, wanting to serve, and feeling very forlorn. I loved my job: planning outreach events, listening to hurting people, overseeing programs. Being away from that has felt like the part of me that gave my life meaning was destroyed. I've been anxiously searching for a place to serve, desperate for God to say, "Lynna, go."

I realized tonight... Here comes the epiphany... Just so you won't miss it... I am serving God right here in my house as I take care of my
body! Could it be that I was so busy taking care of everybody else that I was neglecting to put first things first? Afterall, we are told to love our neighbors as ourselves.

I am growing increasingly content that, for this season, I AM serving God faithfully by healing, and growing healthier, and there will be people to serve when I am ready.

Riding my Nustep each night is an act of faith and obedience and what this servant is called to do.

Gotta go ride. (Thanks little sister! And I forgive you for ruining my adolescence. Ha.)