Kathy Unplugged

I did a wild and crazy thing today.

I unplugged my cable TV.

It feels like I stopped drinking cold turkey or stopped smoking cold turkey--honestly.

It's not that I watched all that much TV--mostly news and NCIS and old movies. But it is there and it is a comfort zone and a place to veg out and let my mind go blank. As a widow, I grew accustomed to just having it on--a noise in the background. I controlled it. Then one day, it was controlling me.

I have been talking to Jesus about my need to spend more time at His feet lately, lamenting that I once spent whole days and even nights in prayer and study. I told Him I wanted to return to that "Mary" ministry--sitting at His feet, breaking the alabaster box.

He, in His typical, "still small voice" fashion, seemed to be saying one word: TV. Turn off the TV.

I would promise that I would definitely do that tomorrow, and then a new Middle East crisis would occur, or the huge earthquake--sending me to nearly 24/7 viewing, as the cable channels love to hear--and after all, doesn't all of this tie in to prophecy fulfillment? So I had to keep abreast of the latest world events, didn't I?

Well, actually, no. I didn't. I could check the latest news on my computer, without getting pulled into an all day vigil.

So, this morning I actually pulled the little black box out, turned it around and unscrewed the cable.

It is now 8:35 PM and I have gone an entire day with no TV. There were some panicky moments when I didn't know what I should be doing, but overall, I feel very peaceful right now.

Stay tuned--this could get interesting.

INTO THE MIST: JOURNEY INTO DEMENTIA

My book is here!

I told my writer friend Nikki that I felt a certain thing, something like post-partum depression--like giving birth and suddenly holding in your arms this baby and realizing that you know nothing at all about raising children.

I know nothing at all about being a published author. I never thought about being an author. I am not what one would consider a "writer." Not in the sense that writers think of themselves. Writers write--they can't not write. They love to write. Nikki can't not write--she writes on her blog nearly every day, if not every day.

I journal. I have always journaled because journaling puts the wild and crazy thoughts vying for attention in my mind, onto paper and as I put them onto paper, they seem to sort themselves out and I am able to see things clearly. Most importantly I am able to see Jesus in them, as he sorts them out. I asked Him to do this while John was sick; please Jesus, sort through this for me--it is way beyond me. He did. He does. Beth Moore humorously asks the question of her husband, pointing to her head, "Do you know what it is like to live in here!!!" That is how I feel sometimes. Believe me, you don't want to live in here.

So while John was sick I journaled everything because his dementia invaded my house, my soul, and turned everything into a maze of confusion. It invaded his soul; it took his soul into a netherland of long dark alleyways; places I could not go. I could only hide in Jesus during that journey, and found that He was enough--He was all I needed. You never know that Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.

Now that season of my life is out there ("live" as the publisher calls it) and everyone will see that I am a mess, that I don't have it all together. They will see that even though I may speak to women's groups, teach Bible studies and do conferences in Honduras, I am still a mess. But my strong desire with this book is that I will fade into the background with all of my fear, panic and hysteria and people who read this book will see Jesus, standing calm, undisturbed, patient, as He carries this messed up little lamb in His strong and capable arms, and that indeed, somewhere in the midst of it all, His strength is being made perfect in my weakness.