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Thursday, March 22, 2012

Feeding the funk

In my old neighborhood there is a mockingbird.  I have always loved to hear that mockingbird singing in the mornings.  I knew that when we moved from that house, I would deeply miss hearing his song.

Cody and I, along with help from my father and mother-in-law, have worked to provide quiet the attraction for a mockingbird in our new yard. And recently, as I left for work, I saw one perched in the tree in my front of my house.  I rolled my window down so I could hear him sing, and I was not disappointed.  His song was a little different than the one the mockingbird on Hemlock sings.  It was a little softer, and a little more soothing.  I text messaged my father-in-law to tell him about my mockingbird. This is how the conversation went:

  Me: “I have a mockingbird in my front yard!! He doesn’t sing the same song as the one at our old house. But he sure sings a pretty tune!”

  Wayne: “Your attitude has changed so you’re not singing the same song either. Ha!”

  Me: “You are probably right about my attitude.  Although it has kinda sucked the last 4 days.”

  Wayne: “You sound a little happier lately.”

Which is true…since we have moved, my attitude has changed. And I am happier.  However, the week the mockingbird appeared I had fallen into a funk…

I was pretty sure on Monday that my hormones were organizing an attack on my already unstable emotional and mental state. I was easily irritated, did not feel like smiling and everything was getting on my nerves or making me want to run away and cry.

Tuesday- I woke up with a raging migraine headache and could not get out of bed.  When I was able to get it under control, Cody told me to stay home for the rest of the day. (Nice, you say? More like self preservation, I say)

By Wednesday everyone in my house, including the animals, were scurrying out of my way like cockroaches. I did not care. One morning, I actually got mad and went to my room and shut the door and laid on the bed until I heard the front door close and I knew everyone had left for the shop. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I did not care.  In fact, I was actually enjoying wallowing in my funk.  I refused to try to look at the good things…I was only focused on the negative.

As the week turned into the weekend, my attitude pretty much stayed course.  Although I really just wanted to be alone, we spent Friday night and Saturday night with friends and family.  And then came Sunday.

I love Sundays! There is church, which is always such a blessing. And then we have Blue Bloods Family Lunch (a tradition started by me and Karen Luckett- I will explain at a later date) and just general relaxing on Sundays. On this particular Sunday, we had been invited to our friends who live across the street from our old house on Hemlock to celebrate their son’s birthday.

 We met the Harwell’s about 10 years ago, when they moved into the house across the street from us on Hemlock…They have become a part of our family.  It is always a party at Ledia and Clinton’s.  Ledia is from Honduras and has the most amazing accent! An accent many have tried to imitate, however, so far, none have succeeded.  Being with her just makes me happy.  Their house was filled with people and music.  They listen to Spanish music which makes everything seem even more festive.  And the wine…they always have the best wine!  When I drink wine with Clinton and Ledia, I  think I must feel like the guests at the wedding where Jesus performed his first miracle. The people who were served the wine Jesus had just created; the wine that was described by the master of the banquet as “the best.”

Although I was having a good day…I was aware that my funk was still in control of my emotions and it was strange parking across the street from the driveway I have parked in for the last 11 years. The driveway and the house are still empty, and I was fighting the urge to just walk over…eventually, in a moment when I was left alone, I lost the battle.  I walked out the front door completely unnoticed and across the street. 

As soon as I looked in the front window and walked around the house, I knew I was not fighting the funk…I was feeding it…in all honesty, I had been nurturing it all week.  I just stood and looked at the empty house that was my home for so many years.  I allowed myself to remember what it was like when we first moved in; how excited we were…I sat on the porch, and I remembered.  Even though, while I was sitting there, the house definitely did not look or feel like my home, my home is a small red brick house in the Westwood Addition, the view across the street of my neighbor’s, no, not just my neighbor’s, my dear friends’ house- that view felt like home. And the mockingbird was singing. He was singing the song I am so familiar with.  That mockingbird’s song felt like home.

I gathered my emotions together and walked back across the street- leaving the old house behind me.  I did not even look back towards it.  I walked in the front door, sure that no one had missed me. But I was wrong.

Cody asked me where I had been; everyone had been looking for me.  I tried to casually say that I walked across the street…but when the look on Cody’s face turned from slightly irritated to sweet concern, I felt my eyes fill up with tears.  As he hugged me, he said, “Why? Why would you do that?” And I knew I had been caught feeding my funk.

When we left the party, I did not even glance at the house. I was glad to get home. I had cried on Ledia’s shoulder for a bit… I have to admit I felt a little guilty for bringing the funk to the party…but I guess every party has to have a pooper; I just never have been one.

I believe that pooping the party was the beginning of the end for my funk…I was still not back to my normal craziness…but I was fighting it more and more. 

I bought some flowers to plant. Digging in dirt always makes me happy.  So I spent one afternoon planting.  I was on my patio, listening to praise music, singing and planting! Now here’s the deal- I am a terrible singer. The.Worst.Ever. But, my dogs don’t mind it, and none of my neighbors were in their yards- so I felt free to sing as much and as loud as I wanted. In the middle of “Here I am to Worship” my mockingbird landed on a branch and began to sing too.  The mockingbird was singing in tune and along with “Here I am to Worship.” It was one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard.  I knew that it was a special concert, orchestrated by my God, just for me!! What an honor it is to serve such a powerful and personal God! He never feeds my funk; and I don’t think He honors me when I am wallowing in the pit of one…But He is always here. He is always ready and willing to show me the way out of the funk.  He is God and all of creation sings His praises!

Yes, “my new” mockingbird does sing a different song than the old one.  But my heart is singing a new song as well.

Sometimes a funk is unavoidable… but they are not forever.

4 Sing praises to the Lord, you who belong to him;
praise his holy name.
5 His anger lasts only a moment,
but his kindness lasts for a lifetime.
Crying may last for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.

11 You changed my sorrow into dancing.
You took away my clothes of sadness,
and clothed me in happiness.
12 I will sing to you and not be silent.
Lord, my God, I will praise you forever.

Psalm 30: 4-5; 11-12

1 comment:

  1. Wow! That is awesome. Praise God for the small things. You can tell we are related, digging in dirt always helps my funk too. Must be the west texas in us. :)