The Sacrifice of Praise

The Sacrifice of Praise


So there I was – or rather, here I am—three whole days and nights without sleep and feeling faint and nauseated. I know, I know…it really is all my fault. I went off my regimen and I wasn’t as good about water. And bingo! The thing comes back with a vengeance. And then there’s younger son who’s been battling an autism headache for about five weeks.

So I’m looking up at the ceiling of our bedroom wondering if I should wake the beloved for sex so I can get two minutes sleep. If that. Then I got to thinking. Which is always a bad idea. I think about stuff when I should be sleeping. And the mind just won’t stop. So I think about having two husbands and what that would imply. Cause I’m working on my present novel but also cause honestly, having two husbands would be kinda fun. Then I think about the difference between Yahweh, Allah, Buddha, and the Mormon Heavenly Father. So I start listing. Yahweh co-labors with his people. The Bible is a collaboration with man. God even allows man to use the street language of the Greek empire to write the New Testament and even uses Paul’s petulance. YHVH loves humans and allows all his prophets to be themselves. Heck he even allows himself to be made powerless in certain situations unless human faith is applied to the situation. And of course He says He is love and that He is our Father. Allah doesn’t call himself love. In fact Allah is offended if we try to anthropomorphize him because he is beyond all that petty small human stuff. And of course his book, the Koran, fell perfectly formed with all its errors (In some sections it seems as if Mohammed believes Mary/Miriam Jesus mother was the sister of Moses. And he states that Alexander the Great was a great holy man who lived a long life because he was blessed by Allah. Not to mention places where it contradicts itself.) Then there is Buddha. A rich prince who lives in wealth and peace then has a nervous breakdown when he realizes how crappy life is for everyone else. Then reaches enlightenment and learns to accept that sorrows exist in the world…while he continues his good life. To be fair, though, Buddha doesn’t go around saying he is Creator. Just enlightened. So he really should be compared to the Son of Man (although Jesus is also co-Creator). At least Jesus grew up poor and connects to the poor and develops a theology of conquering evil, sin, sickness, death, demons. As opposed to rich stressed prince who tells us to accept and submit to evil and to aim for inner purity because our next life will be better or we will disappear into nothingness so it doesn’t really matter. Mercifully, Jesus promises us that we will keep our personality, and all the wonderful things we love as humans. Then there is the Mormon Heavenly Father who was once a man on another planet and grew to godhead then had sex with Mary (okay, Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and the oldtimey Mormons believed this). But honestly, Heavenly Father is a God who vacillates, changes his mind, and just plain changes.

So then I got to thinking about writing a children’s book about two princes or two boys who both grow up. One having a life like Jesus and the other having a life like Buddha. Maybe I’ll call it Joshua and Bodie. And all the while I’m sleepy and nauseated and just can’t sleep. And in between I’m thinking of having two husbands. And all the time I hear younger son crying in his room as he has cried for 18 years of his life.

Then the alarm goes off and younger son comes to our room but not before he kicks the walls and some more plaster falls off. There are portions to our house where all you see is the wooden slats and the studs because a certain person is in pain and aggressively has to kick something or someone. So husband and I get up and look at each other and there is this wink of joy to each other and we start smiling at each other. Smiling and somewhat on the verge of laughing!!!! Now, isn’t this the grace of God? Sometimes our life is so odd and so weird --and it has been like this for so long—that we just end up laughing. I tell the beloved, I am so glad you are the one who are my husband! Weird life as it is, stressing and sad as it is, it certainly is an interesting experience.

Then I force myself to get out of bed because younger son drags me out of bed and kicking me and beating me up…as if dragging me out of bed and kicking me is gonna cure that headache. I start whining and getting weepy and saying how crappy and nauseated I feel. And husband starts singing. So what do I do? I join in. We start singing. Marantha songs, old-timey campmeeting, Anglican hymns, songs we’ve made up over the years. Sick and crappy though I was I waltzed through the house singing. That’s what the Bible calls the sacrifice of praise. I sang about the blood of Jesus and his victory over death. And I meant it too!

I totally believe in the sacrifice of praise. When I had older son I got the worst case of post-partum depression. Just this overwhelming fear of death and panic. It was awful. But one day I got so tired of it I got up in the middle of the night feeling so fearful and anxious and I sang my little heart out. And the sorrow just left. It’s been a fun morning. I sang and I sang. I know something happened in the spiritual realm because of all that singing. God’s word, the Bible, says something happens when we give the sacrifice of praise. And I believe God. And again I say, if I had to live this weird kind of life, there is no husband who has been a better match for this unplanned journey than the beloved.

Great is the Lord who enables us to fight the fight one day at a time, one hour at a time. I love him sooo much. -C