TwinkleGram POINTER: A Different View

After an all-day writing stint up at The Farm in MN (only a short break for dinner), I finally declared it was time to turn off the computer, stretch out my squished body and relax for the evening. I made a bowl of popcorn, poured an iced tea, piled the pillows and a blanket on the couch, grabbed the TV clicker, then rooted down into the middle of my perfect nest. I patted the skinny space between my body and the back coushions. On cue, the ever agile Kornflake, my lanky red dog, leaped up and cuddled in with me, resting his head on my chest. Since George was back home in Chicago, I was free to click on the TV and land my own show. Ahhhhhh. Life was grand.

Within moments, a somewhat muffled thwap grabbed our attention. The noise sounded like it came from the front porch. Please understand this: The Farm is up in the bluffs of Winona MN. It's very dark at night. Beautiful, close stars . . . . Did I say it's very dark? And that we don't have a front porch light? Kornflake reared his head and perked his ears, as did I. We waited and listened, stared at the front door, but no more sounds. After about a minute, we oozed back into spongedom.

THWAP!

This time Kornflake blasted to a half-sit and emitted a low, throaty growl-something he rarely does. The hair on both our necks whipped to full attention. Although the front door is visible from the couch, as usual, I'd drawn a curtain over its big window for the night, and yet . . . we couldn't take our eyes off it.

Silence.

The wind was blowing-not howling, but blowing-and I chalked it up to maybe . . . twigs falling from a nearby tree? Grrrrrr. Or something. We both eventually settled back down into the couch, but there was no doubt we were on full alert.

THWAP, THWAP!

Kornflake pole vaulted over me toward the door, then stood staring at it. GRRRRRRRRRRRR. I, too, got up off the couch. It was time to explore. Emboldened by Kornflake's presence-and a bout of severe irritation that my Chill Time was anything but that-I whipped open the front door (take that, Mr. intruder, for ticking me off!) and walked out onto the porch. Nothing. Maybe the wind had been rattling the grapevine wreath hanging on the side of the house. Maybe a critter was lurking about. I removed the wreath and laid it on the porch, pushed a couple lounge chairs back (maybe they were blowing?), and then, back to the couch.

THWAP!

This time both Kornflake and I STORMED ONTO THE PORCH--right after I almost killed myself launching out of the thick of covers! I brought the grapevine wreath in, along with anything else that wasn't nailed down. I stood out there for a long while, waiting for the sound to repeat. Nothing. Back into the house we came. Back onto the couch, to a cold bowl of popcorn and a growing frustration, since before we were even burrowed back into the covers, THWAP!

GRRRRRRRRRR! This time it was ME growling! We both stood by the door, determined to wait it out until it happened again so we could THWART THE CAUSE-whatever that might take.

Then we heard the THWAP. Since we were standing by the door, it became clear that the sound was not outside, but rather it was echoing down the interior stairway. After a short amount of investigation ("Kornflake, get up there--in front of me!), I found I'd left a window open upstairs, and when the wind blew, it caused the open door to swing and bang against the door jam.

The source of my alert, irritation and ongoing troubles came from WITHIN.

I keep thinking about this incident. Why? Because it caused me to take a look at how often I'm out there ready to pound down WHOMEVER or WHATEVER is causing me to feel stressed, on alert, irritated and/or ready to blow. However, far too often, I discover it's something inside me! Like holding a grudge, or withholding forgiveness. When I don't get enough sleep, my nerves are on edge. If I'm engaging in too much "windmill fighting" rather than letting go and letting God, all the world seems against me.