When I was young, my coping method for stress or crisis was cleaning.  Deep cleaning.  It was not unusual for me to be on hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor at three in the morning.  I may not be able to fix the problem, but by golly, I’ll fix my floor!  With things spinning out of control (seemingly) , I found comfort in controlling a bucket and sponge, a vacuum or a toilet brush- the latter making a handy weapon, in a pinch. For instance, in the 1980’s epidemic of P.M.S., eight kids and unpaid bills, I could say, “I have a loaded toilet bowl brush and I know how to use it.”  and everyone would flee.

Ah, youth!  Now, at fifty-eight, when trouble comes, I take to my bed:  cram the earphones in, crank up the worship music or audio Bible, bury myself six feet under in pillows and comforters (they’re not called that for nothing) and stew/spew/pray,  punching my Tempur-Pedic into short-term memory foam loss.

So you can imagine my giddy delight when the very day after I’d done such, I found in the BIble this whole idea of taking to my bed!  It’s like God actually encouraging- Bwaaahaahaa-my insanity.  Here it is:  Psalm 4:4  “Commune with your own heart upon your bed and be still.  Selah.”  Or, in another version, “feel compunction upon your beds for what ye say in your hearts.  Pause.”   I really like that word compunction.  Doesn’t it kinda sound like “come punch on”?

Actually it means to consider your guilt.  Pause. Mmmm-okay, not guilty. That’s when I hear that Still, Small Voice say, “Whoa-wait just one little minute, missy.  Rewind and press pause again.  Is that a little mummified self-pity wrapped up in those Egyptian cotton sheets?  Are you clinging to 300 thread-counts of unforgiveness?   Let’s   review this whole, “take to your bed thing” again.  What it says is, ‘Be angry, but do not sin.  Meditate on your bed and be still.  Pause.'”

Hmmm.  I think I’m headed back to bed to meditate on this.  And Be Still.  And Pause.

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