Habits

I just ran out of gas, not the $3.45 a gallon type. It’s the drive to get things done. Writing things mostly. For the past twenty-two days I’ve set a routine that began with dragging my ass out of bed before daylight. I know most working stiffs do this. It was something I always hated when I collected a pay check. I am a morning person, but rising before daylight is difficult. The plan was to accomplish much in the morning hours. Play in the afternoon.

For the past two days I’ve growled at the froggy burps the cell phone’s alarm threw into my ear. Sleep arrived far too late in the hours assigned to sanitation workers, gum cracking waitresses at the Waffle House and newspaper delivery boys sent out the door by their fuzzy-slippered mothers. “Damn, I got to reprogram that thing,” shouldn’t be the first thought of the day.

I padded to the lanai to see the full moon under the soft gauze of Big Island clouds. One star’s light was strong enough to cut through the hazy sky. This will be gone by daylight.
The plan had been to put “then before when.” That stops the game playing. When I do this then I’ll do that. To illustrate: when I take a shower, I’ll then buckle down to write some more. A few days I didn’t get a shower until the mandatory one before swimming sixty laps at the community pool. I saved some hot water, but I can’t say it resulted in much critically acclaimed writing. I made the point to myself. Valerie, you can waste time with the best of them.

It’s Hawaii for crying out loud. Island Time. Later Brah. Taste the water before you flop your belly on your board and join the boys on quest for the perfect little wave before sunset. It’s the best life offers - hope for the best of wave.

I punched my internal work clock and set about the mornings. First priority was to take up the Bible reading plan designed to take me through the New Testament in ninety days, except I only had thirty left to spare. The goal wasn’t to read to gain knowledge or insight, but to have a life changing encounter with God. A lot to expect in thirty days, but I am talking God here. The thirty-first reading came on day twenty-two. And that doesn’t count the study of Genesis which I embarked on.

The insight was remarkable. The relationship, as usual, challenging. I picked up some applications for the guidebook I am working on, and I found my journaling began to sound a bit like some cloistered monk having an out of body experience. All this without the aid of incense, candles or alcohol.

By 10 am, with Romans 4-5 completed, a bit of journaling about my faith's need of the same calm state as a drowning man, and a few more words on the guidebook, I decided my encounters were getting too heady. I acknowledge that I have not written a word without Him, but when I wrote Middle English servitude I had to scratch it out and replace it with service.

It’s November 11, 2008. I served.