WHEN YOU DON’T FEEL LIKE SMILING!

My soul is raining!

Stubborn sun, why must you shine?

Tears refresh the joy.

By Martha L Shaw – ©  2017

HOW TO MAKE A BAD DAY GOOD

FIND A REASON TO REJOICE TODAY!

NOT AS HARD AS YOU THINK!

 

I get stressed, especially when I multitask and demand too much from myself!  The Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle – we do!

• Take a praise break!   Can’t thiink of anything good about your day?
• relax your muscles
• breath deeply
• close your eyes
• say “Lord, thanks for loving me!”
• repeat until chest tightness relaxes
• REJOICE!

 

 

 

IT IS YOUR CHOICE!

STRESS DEMYSTIFIED!

Crisis! Crisis! Crisis!

So, I stand here tired and stressed and facing the crisis of today and wondering WHAT WILL BE THE CRISIS OF TOMORROW . . . 

Problem with this line of thinking?  

The Lord already had the solution for today’s crisis YESTERDAY and while I’m running ahead fussing about tomorrow, HE’S HOLDING OUT HIS HANDS TO ME WITH THE SOLUTION I NEED RIGHT NOW.  

All I have to do is accept His Gift!

ULTIMATE STRESS BREAKER!

Okay, most of us have see movies and comedy shows in which someone was stressing out and a “caring obserer” slapped him/her in an effort to be “helpful.”  We laughed.  In reality, that’s highly unlikely to work.  There is a solution though.  The following quote is from the King James translation of the Bible and the poetry is beautiful in that translation of this quote, but if you find it distracting it’s lovely in meaning in any translation.  I suggest you print these words and repeat them during times of stress . . . if not the entire verse, at least the highlighted section.  I’m sure it’ll be familiar but in times of extreme stress, having a reminder and something to grab hold of is a good thing. 

⁹He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire.

 ¹⁰Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.

 ¹¹The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.  Psalm 46:9-11

Real Or Imagined?

I read the following quote and found it quite interesting:      

In his book Shoulder to Shoulder, Dr. Rodney L. Cooper defines stress as “The response of the sympathetic nervous system to a perceived or actual threat.” He adds, “This technical definition probably won’t mean much to you. Basically it says that stress is the way our body responds to perceived or actual danger. Our blood pressure skyrockets and our muscle strength increases. We’re ready to fight or fly. Stress isn’t the cause but the effect”* In essence, stress is a reaction to danger real or imagined

 

 

Now, to me the fact of the cause versus effect is a slam dunk.  Who doesn’t already know that.  I think the more significant reminder in Dr Cooper’s quote is the “real or imagined” part.  Come on,, do we not focus so much of our concern and so much unnecessary attention to “imagined” and far less to the “real” in life?  Don’t mess with me.  I know I’m not the only one.  Stress itself isn’t necessarily bad.  It can get us moving – drive us to work harder in a good way – as well as warn us of “danger” as Dr Cooper states here in his cause versus effect.  Interesting, just the same, that our body response to stimuli becomes our focus without our questioning it.  Thus, the stimuli makes imagined become real.  For Christians, this reinforces the  need to pray, discern, and surrender and thus get back to what’s real – and ultimately our life in Christ as He is real and lives in us. 

 

 

 

Yawning . . . Bleeding . . . Waiting

Interesting how we find ourselves reacting to the unexpected and how often a startling occurence can make us temporarily senseless.  I say this because last night was one of those nights.  I was lazily watching television and sipping ice water, laptop and cell phone nearby since even tired and blurry, I need to have my finger on the “pulse” of cyberspace.  Lol  Sadly, it is during those times that my ability to type and worse yet my ability to proofread my efforts suffers greatly.  Oh, dear.  “Oh, bother” as Pooh would say.   So, when the phone rang I jumped.  Literally.  A dear friend called to say he’d injured himself and thought a trip to the emergency room was called for.  As I drove down familiar streets I realized that my tax rate is lower here than where I used to live because they DO NOT HAVE NEARLY ENOUGH STREET LIGHTS.  Not only that, but THEY RARELY CONSTRUCT ROADS WITH SIDEWALKS, and worse yet THEY ALL HAVE CURVES AND TWISTS.  Okay, the curves are meant to slow us down as we drive through the neighborhoods, but lights would be helpful, particularly since our pretty neighborhood doesn’t have sidewalks . . . I don’t drive at night too often.  The economy, both the nation’s and my own, requires close watching of expenditures so being home at night is recommended over being a party girl about town.  I thought of all this as I drove down streets which just hours before seemed beautiful, bright, and beckoning.  All this came rushing to my mind as the friend inches away from me said “oh, crap” and realized he was REALLY bleeding at that moment.  We got to  the ER.  We waited a long time, then he was taken to be stitched and I waited and waited and watched.  Interesting how folks handle waiting in ER waiting rooms.  One or two go off alone and hold tattered newspapers without reading them and jump every time they hear footsteps.  Most others sit close to the strangers around them, make occasional small talk, giggle over nothing in particular, and take some relief in the presence of other humans playing the same waiting game.  There are also a few who’ve made this late night trip and played this waiting game so often that they just get comfortable in plastic chairs, sip coffee brewed hours ago from foam cups, and have their own books and such from home to read knowing the “routine” entirely too well.  “I’ll be fine” my friend said, with a bandage much larger than the cut that was just stitched.  Smiling and tired, his pain shot hadn’t worn off yet and I hoped he’d be asleep before it did.  Minutes later he was home and so was I.  This morning those same streets are well-lit with the late summer sunshine and the dark skies are now an amazing shade of blue.  I’m sipping coffee once again but it’s freshly brewed.  My “good sense” or what passes for it has been restored.   The wound will heal.  Life is good.