Above the Beepity-Bloopits

For many years, I have struggled to determine whether I'm an introvert or an extrovert, because I seem to have qualities and tendencies of both.  I think that predominantly my nature is introverted, though I need and love people time--both giving and receiving from people--and pull off a really good impersonation of an extrovert when it's called for.  

But sometimes, like yesterday, I am amazed by how loudly the Introvert in me cries out for her needs to be acknowledged.  

Christmas 2015 was a wonderful day with my family, in my own home with my parents and their dog visiting, and lots of gifts and feasting.  And lots of wrapping paper.  And beepity-bloopits.  And roars.  And shrieks of delight.  And racing up, down, and all around.  And a baby enjoying a bad-nap day and clamoring to be held most of the time.  

And by the end of the day (long before, actually) I could barely think straight; my soul desperately wanted to go sit alone in a dark, quiet room.  

I was thinking so foggily that "introvert" was continually coming out as "invalid" in my brain, and I had to think awhile before opening my mouth.  

So it was good, good, good, for me to remember at bedtime NOT to pick up my delightful novel, but instead to pick up the Word of Life, to remember Psalm 23, to remember my Pastor's anecdote a couple of weeks ago, "If you can't wake up earlier, do your quiet time before you go to bed at night."  

He leads me beside still waters.

HE RESTORES MY SOUL.

Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!  Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.  Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?  Listen diligently to Me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.  Incline your ear, and come to Me; hear, that your soul may live...Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that He may have compassion on him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.  For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.  For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall My word be that goes out from My mouth; it shall not return to Me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.  For you shall GO OUT IN JOY and be LED FORTH IN PEACE; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.  (Most of) Isaiah 55.  

I have thoughts and reflections about Christmastime, about the wonder of our Savior coming as a little baby, the gift of Himself.  

But instead of those wonders, here is a little something for the Day After, for the others of you who may also need some soul restoration.  

May you remember to make room for quiet, for peace.  And may it bring forth joy in your soul!

Bring on the beepity-bloopits.  

Notes

This morning Lewis helped me make the roux for mac and cheese.  That's technical-talk for a milk-and-flour-based sauce, and this particular one is full of spices and seasonings and cheese.  Favorite.

I had basically nothing to do with cooking until I got married.  Well, I started practicing shortly before that, with results exemplified by Andy's comment: "From now on, you're only allowed to use two seasonings in scrambled eggs."  So I've begun early with my children, involving them in baking and measuring and stirring and (very recently) cutting, and teaching them the names of tools and techniques that I've learned through the years.

Small note of pride: a month ago I made beef stew, delicious.  Without a recipe.  And today I tested myself, and have made this mac and cheese from memory.  In one of my cookbooks, the woman who submitted a recipe commented, "Everyone has that recipe that they know by heart.  This is mine."  I of course didn't know that everyone should have a recipe they know by heart...but now I'm among the ranks :0)

Sweet note while cooking with Lewis this morning: I asked him whether he'd like to listen to Christmas music or Jesus music.  We're big fans of both around here, but I fully expected him to choose Christmas music.  His response?  "Jesus music, because we love Jesus."