Not to mention people think I'm a freak.
(Which, I admit, is both fun and unsettling.)
It's weird how people react -- mostly my Christian friends -- when I tell them I'm not following American Idol this year. (I've never missed an episode before.) It's not like it's a bad show. Most people watch it with their kids, even. But it's the total dedication two hours a week for over four months. It's the setting aside of whatever else needs my attention, laundry housecleaning kids husband God, for this show that is about creating an Idol for America to worship. ... and now you hate me. But it's true. I, too, deceived myself into thinking it was about hearing beautiful singing. Sorry. It isn't. (Watch Celtic Women or listen to Carmina Burana instead.)
Or JJ Abram's "Lost". Oh, Lost. My abusive boyfriend. How you have toyed with me for five years. You have abused my patience, you have taken advantage of my intelligence, and you have drawn me back with lulling sweet promises year after year. And now you want me back for one more fling. You have promised me all the answers. You have given your word that this is the last time. But alas, my heart cannot take one more abusing. My nostrils refuse to inhale your intoxicating lure. I will not come back to you. My decision is firm. In fact, I should have left you long ago.
Okay, this is helping.
And those are the shows that I watch. Except for the righteously violent, heart-rate stomping, teeth gritting, adrenaline-packed "24". And the jury's still out on "24". I'm asking God to take away the desire. It's pretty deep, and He's working overtime.
And "Glee". But this one is packed with ridiculosity and inappropriate content. And it's wonderful. And I want Jane Lynch to be in my posse. I'm praying about this one, too.
Oh, and "House". But only because I have a major actor-crush on Hugh Laurie. He's a brilliant actor. Genius, even.
(Okay, so I'm only divulging a fraction here of what I actually end up watching.)
See, the more I dig, the more I realize how much time I have dedicated to this magic glowing box.
"'Meaningless! Meaningless!' says the Teacher. 'Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless'... All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." Ecclesiastes 1:2, 8-9
But now I'm an alien. Now I induce the blank stare. Now I'm the conversation killer. Now I am the party pooper, fer real y'all.
You: "Hey, did you see that..."
Me: "No. Sorry."
You: "Wasn't that hilarious when..."
Me: "Oh, I didn't see it."
You: "Oh... Cool."
(eyes shifting, looking for the nearest exit.)
But whatever. It's cool. Because you know what? I'm praying for you, too. Because this is a good place to be. There's no flashing lights or enticing previews. But the rewards of this obedience are already starting to whisper into my ears.
The obedience has brought me to my knees in repentance over the slightest hint of anger, jealousy, selfishness, or laziness.
The obedience is changing the way I perceive holiness, purity, love.
The rewards have come in the form of crying, heartbroken for other people's pain and loss, instead of a forced sympathy.
Doesn't that sound fun?
Okay. I know. My face is green. It's a side-effect, too.
I'll retreat back to my home planet now.