Frenetic fragmentation

We’ve been on this journey together for a while now; however, to the new folks just sitting down on the logs beside the camp fire, welcome. Thanks for dropping by. You’re welcome to partake of some of Taylor’s nasty coffee or some of my own weakly brewed stuff. There’s also some Diet Cokes back there on the chuck wagon, as well as some dukey cookies to munch on (some call them “no-bake” cookies, but I just call them like I see them).

One of the strange things about Notes is that it’s rarely very focused. You never know what you’ll get from day to day. Sometimes it’s about gadgets. Other times, you’ll find thoughts about the church here. Other times, musings about my ear hair. The blogging world tells you that the most successful blogs have focus – which is why Notes is not one of the most successful blogs. But it does have readers – good folks who enjoy coming back, sitting around the fire and sharing about life, the deep and the shallow.

While the fire is hot and the coffee is warm, I wanted to share with you what’s on my mind today. It’s personal but applicable…

The title of this entry says it all. Frenetic is defined as “fast and energetic in a rather wild and uncontrolled way,” and I believe “fragmentation” is self-explanatory. Since August 2003, my family and I have been on an extended faith “journey” with a wagon train of incredible folks. We’re daily deeply grateful for this liberating life adventure that we know God has called us to.

Being bivocational means that I have to say “yes” to a lot of things I’d rather not do. For instance, I’m good at graphic design, but I don’t necessarily enjoy doing it for a living. I find myself torn between competing priorities all the time. Bread on the table or leadership of a church. It’s not quite that bad or that distinct, but you get the picture, right?

I continually live with this overarching sense of being a “jack of all trades, a master of none.” It’s a feeling of letting everyone down… all the time… because I can’t focus or prioritize a schedule that’s by nature full of expectations, people, interruptions and ministry. How do you “schedule” ministry? You just respond to it with a heart of faith and hands of service.

Anyway, I wanted to throw out this topic of “frenetic fragmentation” for you all because I suspect that I’m not the only one sitting here feeling this way.

Now you folks talk while I go get me some more weak coffee. And don’t touch my cookies.

On this day...


  1. Jeff says:

    Amy! Cool! It’s always great to hook up with OBU friends! Do you have a blog? Thanks for posting, and I look forward to hearing more from you. I’m glad to hear that the FF entry has touched home with more than just me…

    Mark… aaaah. I love compliments. Say it again. Renaissance Man. RM. Theme song and action figure. I will change out of my Bible Belt Man tights to don my RM cape and fly off to… uh, paint something. πŸ˜‰

    Aw heck, just tell Angela to make up a mess of them thar cookies, and I’ll slow down long enough to help you eat them.

  2. Mark W says:
    Cool title! I can totally sympathize with the frenetic and fragmented lifestyle. There’s something to be said for the Renaissance Man, though. Being gifted with a breadth of knowledge and ability is very useful (and read your personality profile again–architects are naturally inclined to look at the big picture to see how it all fits together, so one might assume you couldn’t do without the fragmentation in some form or another).

    I agree…Those no-bake cookies are delicious! Ang makes them nice and gooey for me too, just the way I like them.

  3. Amy says:
    Hi, Jeff! Got to your blog in a roundabout way, but I’m so glad I found it! I’m an OBU alum as well (class of ’91!). As a stay-at-home mom, I feel frentically fragmented most of my waking hours! I know I’m (not a comment on all moms, just me)supposed to stay home right now and I gratefully love the opportunity. But I also know God gave me gifts and passions for ministry that I just don’t have time to do right now. So sometimes I feel like I’m missing out but conversely, I don’t want to miss out on my kids. Why does there have to be a “conversely?” In the words of R.King, why can’t we all jsut get along?

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