Recently, I had a moment. You know the kind. The times you just want to scream, maybe out loud or maybe quietly stewing inside. I was in the middle of writing a blog post and I was on a creative mission. I was in the flow, fingers clickity clacking across my keyboard.
Here’s the thing. I don’t handle interruptions well when I am in the creative process. It takes me too much time to get back into the flow of my thought process. When writing I need a quiet, peaceful environment of some sort – except, inexplicitly, Starbucks which at times offers as much silence as a freight train barreling down the tracks.
As I was writing, my husband approached and asked if I had time for him to show me how to scan photos. He’s our household technology guru. He had to do a work-around in order for me to scan pictures. Sam reassured me. “It should only take a few minutes.” Dum, Da, Da, Dum! Queue up the dramatic music. Internal drama about to dispense.
During the time my computer was confiscated, held hostage against its will, I busied myself. I ducked downstairs to throw in a load of laundry and fold some clothes. I came back upstairs and peeked into Sam’s office to see him still working on my computer. Me, a little frustrated but not too bad, “what’s going on?” Sam responded he was still trying to get it to work.
I went about more business. Maybe if I keep myself busy, I won’t notice my dilemma. Clean up the kitchen a bit. Peak into Sam’s office. Still no computer. Try desperately not to pout. Pick up the mountain of shoes piled in front of the door. Peak into Sam’s office. Still no computer. Sam asked me to proofread a document for him. If I didn’t have such a sweet husband, I would have told him to “stuff it”. Internally, I was putting my pout on. Instead, I broke out a colored pen and marked up the pages Sam had given me. Resentment started to settle in. I could feel it coming. I have Sam’s pages, but not mine. I want my pages! I waaaaaaant my pages! Sometimes, you do not want to be in my head.
“Help me Jesus,” I quietly thought to myself. I knew I was on the verge of a meltdown. In my defense several hours without my computer had elapsed. My cry for help was a desperate plea to prevent me from jumping off the figurative ledge. Not erupting was a small miracle!
At this point you may be thinking to yourself, this lady needs to chill. I have the perfect excuse for my emotions getting internally stirred up over something that doesn’t seem like that big a deal. I am in a Bible study right now called “Unglued”. God has been very faithful to present many learning opportunities to me during this dag nab study! It’s excellent, but you’ve been warned. You just might come “Unglued” a time or two or ten thousand if you decide to participate in it.
Back on the home front, I was like a Weeble Wobble trying not to fall down. I decided to get dressed and go for a run. I needed to get out of the house before I had an unglued moment – an eruption of epic proportion. Stewart, my sweet Shitzu, needed to go for a potty break before I hit the pavement. As I was walking Stewie, God plunked the title of this blog into my head. Yay! Redemption! Reward! I had walked to the edge of the emotional volcano, but had not erupted. God redeemed my lost time. The idea for this blog post came lickity split. I smiled at the imperfect progress I was making navigating “Unglued” moments.
So, when IS a picture worth WAY more than 1,000 words? My answer to that question is easy: when obtaining a picture is about to wreak havoc on your day. All of this internal stress, just to have the ability to scan photos for my blog. Next time, I’m just going to buy some more points from 123rf.com The few dollars spent to purchase a photo won’t cost nearly as much as losing about 5 hours of writing time or the energy it took to maintain my composure.
It just dawned on me. I have the perfect picture for this post. It’s the cover of Lysa Terkeurst’s book. That picture is definitely worth more than 1,000 words!
What is a funny “Unglued moment you have had?
Were you able to maintain composure or did you erupt like Mount St. Helens?