Blessed Are The Procrastinators


It’s 8:00 a.m. and the Bible’s read, the prayer is prayed, the bed is made.

Time to write.

I turn the computer on, nimble up the fingers, double click the writing software icon and Flash! The stark white page pains the pupil and the cursor blinks. Then I blink. Then it blinks. Then I blink. And it kinda’ freaks me out, because I don’t have a single good thing to say, and it’s just … waiting. Flashing. Making me feel like an idiot. So I do what any reasonable, mature, aspiring author would do:

I fold towels and fill the salt shaker and organize the silverware drawer and muck out the paper pile on the table and ~gasp!~ it’s been a whoppin’ three hours since I played Words With Friends (these people are waiting on me, you know) and I really must check Facebook to see what the firstborn in Florida is up to and, and …

and maybe I love procrastination, okay? 

Because after stiff-arming the wordless, snow white box with the blinky thing for approximately 34 minutes, ideas finally begin to flood in and it’s impossible to keep the distance – and the blank page? It fills with a combobulation of twenty-six letters that somehow form this blog post.

This productive procrastination gets me thinking about the not-so-funny episode …

when the husband stepped over the threshold, weary from the work day, and it was so not well with the wife’s soul and (surprise!) she didn’t have a single good thing to say.  The tongue – it bucked against the bridle, desired to set a forest (any forest!) ablaze and the mind reeled and rebelled …

Peacemaking … shhmeacemaking …

Let’s rumble!

I had a good excuse, people.

I was in my third week of sickness and pain and I was fed up and I confess – the meditations of my heart were about as clean as a mud hut. Peace and harmony ditched me and I wanted deliverance from the wretched body of death and I wanteditnowthankyouverymuch.

The husband knows everything. I don’t have to voice the struggle before he pegs me. And this … spiritual gift of his – it stokes my wrath, and I’ve learned that this is my cue. My warning light that says it’s time to procrastinate – immediately. To not utter one felt word, to preach the fourteenth verse of the nineteenth Psalm, hard and now. To beg God to make the meditations of my heart, and the words of my mouth acceptable in His sight …

create in me a clean heart, O Lord …

It’s not easy. The effort, as the Preacher says, is extreme. But I am (always and forever) learning that if I bravely take that first step of holy procrastination, if I put off the flesh ~outright deny it~ and put on humility … He rescues.

Every time.

My faithful Refuge is just that – faithful. A very present Help in times of trouble and Strength that enables me to respond with words of welcome rather than words of wrath. To act, not react. To respond to love with love. To make peace, not war.

This holy putting off – it leads to holy peacemaking …

which leads to …

glorious blessing ~ being called the sons of God …

which leads to …

more peace …

which leads to …

joy …

and the cycle continues and it’s contagious, friends.

I dare you to try it – the holy peacemaking – with your spouse, your best friend, your enemy, your roommate, coworker, mother, father, sister, brother, in-law or out-law. Sure, they may know of your struggle like the husband did. But there’s no sin in the struggling …

only in the giving in and giving up.

So there. Go make peace.

I don’t just dare ya’

I double-dog dare ya’.

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5 Responses to “Blessed Are The Procrastinators”

  1. okiewife says:

    I am a member of the original procrastinator’s society, just never went to a meeting (if they have ever got around to having one-ha)This resonates with me Brenda, I have several peacemaking chores (?) before me, so Taking your dare. But not the double-dog dare…I saw that movie. Love this post.

    • admin says:

      Lois, you crack. me. up.

      And … I have never seen the movie! I was only using a phrase we used to say as kids. :)

      My bet is that it resonates with all of us. Peacemaking is a daily chore, friend. And it’s kinda like eating – ya’ can’t live without it.

  2. Janet Macy says:

    Okiewife – that is hilarious “if they got around to having one”.

    Great post.

    Unfortunately I’m the Queen of Procrastination. I’d be the president of that club if anyone would show up – or if I got around to planning it.

    I haven’t written anything since Christmas. Why? I’m exhausted. Too tired. They released the felon from jail who tried to kill my husband and I’m having nightmares. My creativity has been swallowed up in FEAR. My job is consuming more of my time than I’d like. It’s a full-moon – who can write during a full-moon when everything is crazy. The hospital is in an upheaval and all off administration is changing and no one knows whether we will have a job or not (including me). And on and on and on . .

    And that only addresses why I haven’t written. My husband of 44 years (almost 45 years) and I have no problem. Thank goodness. He keeps me held together. But housekeeping, birthday cards, etc, etc are all hanging dangerously.

    I appreciate the “But there’s no sin in the struggling …only in the giving in and giving up.”

    I needed that today. I was ready to burn the house down so I would have to clean it. Guess I’ll just not give up and just start.

    Love you and your posts

    • Janet Macy says:

      that should have said “so I would NOT have to clean it.

      • admin says:


        If you go through my blog, you’ll see chunks of time where I didn’t write at all. I also get writer’s block when life gets too crazy. I’ve tried real hard recently to be regular with writing, because all the experts tell me that’s what writers do (snort). But I totally understand giving it up when life gets stressful.

        Maybe I can come to your place, and accidentally leave the curling iron on and woopsie! burn the place to the ground. Ha!

        It’s either laugh or cry. I’m sorry you are going through rough times, girlfriend. Will keep you in my prayers. Thanks for coming back.

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