When it rains, it pours.
Ever have one of those months in which everything seems to be going wrong? Yeah, me too.
How about losing someone you care about, and then the next week getting your car stolen? Yeah, that's me too.
I keep trying to look on the bright side, but I'm starting to realize that when one big thing happens, it seems that lots of other bad things follow suit. Why is that?! It's like...oh, hey, this one big horrible thing isn't bad enough, let's test you more.
Sometimes I think that life is one big psychology experiement. We are given more and more to handle to see what our limit is, until we break down. I've started to break down at the most inopportune times- standing on line at the cashier at Ikea, at my cousin's wedding this weekend, when hanging out with friends. I'll think I've pulled myself together, and then suddenly I'll start to blubber like a baby and I'll realize that I've got a long way to go. I can't start crying in the privacy of my own apartment, oh no. It's got to be in public, where everyone and their mother can point and stare and wonder "What's wrong with HER?"
I need to get my act together, because classes start tomorrow and I can't randomly start crying in class. That would be bad.
Meanwhile, my new nickname in the church office is "Ms. Job." I'm just waiting for the boils.
Ever have one of those months in which everything seems to be going wrong? Yeah, me too.
How about losing someone you care about, and then the next week getting your car stolen? Yeah, that's me too.
I keep trying to look on the bright side, but I'm starting to realize that when one big thing happens, it seems that lots of other bad things follow suit. Why is that?! It's like...oh, hey, this one big horrible thing isn't bad enough, let's test you more.
Sometimes I think that life is one big psychology experiement. We are given more and more to handle to see what our limit is, until we break down. I've started to break down at the most inopportune times- standing on line at the cashier at Ikea, at my cousin's wedding this weekend, when hanging out with friends. I'll think I've pulled myself together, and then suddenly I'll start to blubber like a baby and I'll realize that I've got a long way to go. I can't start crying in the privacy of my own apartment, oh no. It's got to be in public, where everyone and their mother can point and stare and wonder "What's wrong with HER?"
I need to get my act together, because classes start tomorrow and I can't randomly start crying in class. That would be bad.
Meanwhile, my new nickname in the church office is "Ms. Job." I'm just waiting for the boils.
posted by Living Life With Exclamation Points! at
10:47 PM
3 Comments:
I've had many of those months, and when the upturn comes, it makes you forget about the past struggles. Life will get better, and yes, I understand the fear of boiling over and crying in public, and the far too many faces made to try and cover the urge. I just choose to not worry about what others think about me and my emotions. Don't worry too much, life will get better, and everything will be okay. Remember that the umbrella of friends will always triumph over the rain of life, including the ever omnipresent friend...
By
Anonymous, at August 27, 2006 at 11:09 PM
http://www.shop.com/op/~The_Original_UNBREAKABLE_AutoLock-prod-23396715
honey, take a look at this...it apparently is more effective than having the steering wheel thing.
You are not the only one though. I had a friend who lived in what she thought was a pretty good area. Turns out, someone who wanted her car stalked her coming and going and was able to steal her car in less than five minutes. She went into the house, came back out to get her mail, and noticed that it was gone.
By
Anonymous, at August 29, 2006 at 8:50 PM
Becca comes to Philadelphia (Sounds like a good title for a Broadway show). Now, suddenly, cars are being stolen, fiance's are running for their lives, and hurricanes with Spanish names are raining on our Labor Day bar-b-cues.
It's enough to make one wonder. Call me paranoid, if you must, but something is not right.
"Dan," the alleged "Man," said, effectively, "don't worry, be happy." He said "life will get better, and everything will be okay."
It's a dirty lie. Don't believe it for a moment.
I'm just kidding - sort of.
Why God put us here is a subject for discussion and debate. One thing I am sure of, however, is that He didn't put us here just to cruise, worry-and-trouble-free, through life. That's just too easy, and would have no point.
Suffering is, if not “good,” at least a necessary part of living. If you are suffering, at least you know you are still alive.
Suffering builds character. Sounds trite, but trust me. Something in Romans about that.
So put on the Whole Armor. You know what Armor I'm talking about. Gird the loins, as it were, for battle.
And a battle it is. Personally (if I am so fortunate at the end of my life as to die peacefully on a bed) I will look back on my life before closing my eyes for the last time and take stock. I will pass judgment on myself then. I will draw two metaphorical columns on a mental slate:
In the “plus” column of that slate I will not be checking off the times that I had an easy day, or when I got a raise or won a lottery or got over on someone. I won’t check off the times when I narrowly avoided trouble of some kind. And I certainly won’t count my money on the last day of my life; I won’t count my material possessions.
Instead, I’ll make tick marks for the times I spoke up when I believed in what I said, but knew that what I said was unpopular. I will make a check mark for each time I defended someone who was weaker than I or unable to defend himself. I will mark each time I did someone a kindness without leaving my name, or when I did the right thing for no other reason but that it was the right thing to do.
It’s hard when the very people you are trying to help seem bent on hurting you in return. But it’s a truism that no good deed goes unpunished. And punishment leaves scars. Battle, even in the name of Good, leaves scars.
What I will count in the "plus" column on my final day is my scars. I will count each and every scar that I received in service to my fellows. If there are enough scars on my final day, I’ll pass on contented, and reasonably certain that I did all I could.
- Wayne
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Anonymous, at September 1, 2006 at 9:52 PM
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