Strings of lights at the Union Square MarketThere are good days, and there are bad days. On the bad days, you remember your mother telling you that "God won't give you more than you can handle, Kris."
(And then you remember that you were lying on the living room floor, moaning, the last time you heard her say this, and that when you asked if there was any whiskey to be had, your mother had said, "No, we don't have any of the 'hard stuff.' But we have some dessert sherry - would that help?" And you said "no" because 'hard stuff' seemed necessary to wash down the hard emotional stuff you were choking on at the moment, and the very idea of dessert sherry seemed to mock your pain. And you vowed to bring some whiskey home, the next time you came home for the holidays, because holidays are rough. And then you let your mother make you a left-over turkey sandwich, because that seemed to make her happy. And when in doubt - eat turkey.)
But I digress.
What I'm getting at here is that my mom is often right. Not necessarily about the efficacy of dessert sherry, and certainly not necessarily about my hair-style, but about other things, yes. And she is right about God not giving me more than I can handle. Sometimes (such as when I'm lying on the living room floor) a statement like that feels cliche; a platitude I've heard once too many times before. "True, fine, yes, whatever," lying-on-the-floor-Kristy thinks.
But it is true, isn't it? I had to stop and recognize the truthiness of it tonight, when proverbial insult was added to (still raw) injury and my first instinct was to lift my eyes and ask, "Are ya kidding me with this, right now, God?" But then I caught myself and thought through the facts.
Fact #1: If this incident had happened last week, I wouldn't have been able to deal. It truly would have been more than I could handle then. So I acknowledge, and am thankful, for God's wise and protective timing.
Fact #2: I wasn't left alone in this. I acknowledge, and am super-thankful, that God gives me friends to turn to, and sympathetic ears to speak to, and hands to hold. I am so very aware of Providential friendships in my life, and deeply thankful for them.
There are good days, and there are bad days. But I'm trying to trust that all my days are arranged just so by One who knows what He's doing.
(And then you remember that you were lying on the living room floor, moaning, the last time you heard her say this, and that when you asked if there was any whiskey to be had, your mother had said, "No, we don't have any of the 'hard stuff.' But we have some dessert sherry - would that help?" And you said "no" because 'hard stuff' seemed necessary to wash down the hard emotional stuff you were choking on at the moment, and the very idea of dessert sherry seemed to mock your pain. And you vowed to bring some whiskey home, the next time you came home for the holidays, because holidays are rough. And then you let your mother make you a left-over turkey sandwich, because that seemed to make her happy. And when in doubt - eat turkey.)
But I digress.
What I'm getting at here is that my mom is often right. Not necessarily about the efficacy of dessert sherry, and certainly not necessarily about my hair-style, but about other things, yes. And she is right about God not giving me more than I can handle. Sometimes (such as when I'm lying on the living room floor) a statement like that feels cliche; a platitude I've heard once too many times before. "True, fine, yes, whatever," lying-on-the-floor-Kristy thinks.
But it is true, isn't it? I had to stop and recognize the truthiness of it tonight, when proverbial insult was added to (still raw) injury and my first instinct was to lift my eyes and ask, "Are ya kidding me with this, right now, God?" But then I caught myself and thought through the facts.
Fact #1: If this incident had happened last week, I wouldn't have been able to deal. It truly would have been more than I could handle then. So I acknowledge, and am thankful, for God's wise and protective timing.
Fact #2: I wasn't left alone in this. I acknowledge, and am super-thankful, that God gives me friends to turn to, and sympathetic ears to speak to, and hands to hold. I am so very aware of Providential friendships in my life, and deeply thankful for them.
There are good days, and there are bad days. But I'm trying to trust that all my days are arranged just so by One who knows what He's doing.
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