[Mostly] Written during Summer, 2014, when we were building our house:
I have dreamt about spackle* three times in the past week. Yes, spackle; that gooey substance one uses to fill holes in drywall, etc. You see, I have spent many hours this week spackling our new living quarters. As I have climbed the rungs of spackling procedures (but without intensifying ability), I have become inadvertently obsessed with spackle. When I drive home from working with it all day, no matter how I attempt to think upon anything else, all I can notice are the grooves, cracks and pot holes in the asphalt that I feel compelled to fill and smooth. I have begun to pay close attention to the walls of our apartment, noting each flaw. I found myself attempting to fill an indentation on my face with my foundation, and I see spackle and a mud knife when I close my eyes. As I was drifting off to sleep the other night, I dreamt that a fantastically colored hot air balloon drifted down from the skies. I boarded it, and was blissfully enjoying soaring through the clouds when my relaxation was shattered. The basket of the hot air balloon suddenly and inexplicably morphed into a giant spackling pan, and a mud knife descended upon it to scrape itself clean. Like it or not, for some reason I am fixed on this spackle thing.
It even came out in conversation with a complete stranger at a coffee shop. He laughed and said something to the effect of “Isn’t it funny how the things we focus on come out like that?” He then told me that after working on a poetry project, he dreamt that a man in his business meeting began speaking completely in poetry.
It struck me a bit odd how quick I was to talk to a stranger about something as rudimentary as spackling. It just slipped on out, since it was on my mind. And in my dreams.
What in the world.
Here it was, concrete proof that what you focus on will affect you.
It seemed that my life so revolved around what I was doing day after day that I was being consumed by it. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the irrepressible words and thoughts that were my obsession proved to be something far less dismal and more meaningful than a drywall process?
Wouldn’t it be great if I speaking of the greatness of God just slipped out as easily when speaking with strangers because it has absorbed my life?
I have no great cogitations on this subject, dear friends.
I simply want to see this, in my life and the lives of my brothers and sisters in Christ. That we will continue to grow in degrees of obsession. That the praise of God will ever be on our lips, and that our conversations would be ones that build each other up. I could ramble on forever concerning how to make this happen, but I think most of us know deep down where we individually need to start. But collectively, here’s my challenge. Church, let us be known for our love for the living Christ and each other rather than meaningless obsessions and behaviors that in the scope of eternity do not matter anymore than my silly spackle will.
*Disclaimer to anyone who understands construction: I might use incorrect terminology here. We were doing drywall, and I was told the goo was spackle, and spackle I shall go with.I only mention this because people have been confused by me with this before.