I am starting to feel like I might be in the Bermuda Triangle. Like I have entered into the perfect storm of unemployment. This may sound a bit like I’m throwing myself a very weather-themed, non-festive pity party, but bear with me. I am.
My conversations with God lately have been going a lot like this (well… from my side at least).
Me: “I need a job. What if I never get a job again, and I end up living in a box. Or a hollowed-out tree stump. ”
God: “Stop worrying.”
Me: “I’ll stop worrying when I’m rolling in the pretty pretty money again.”
God: “You know you’ve never actually rolled in money.”
Me: “Yes but today seems like a great day to start. Then I could pay off my school loans and never work again.”
God: “When did I ever promise you that?”
Me: “Right then. Never. Fine, but I need a job. And also I’d love a pony.”
This conversation has been going on fairly nonstop for a week. A week is how long I have not been required to go to work. Am I still getting paid? Yes, because teachers get paid during the summer. Did I choose this situation for myself? Yes. Am I going to end up living in a tree stump in September? Probably not. But it is a possiblity.
Last night, to deal with my speedy, worrisome brain, I did a crossword puzzle online. On the inside, I am a seventy-six year old woman, and I love crosswords.
I did this one my sophomore year of college. It was a joint effort with a trusted friend, and between the two of us, we solved it. Random, yes, but you have no idea how geriatrically proud I am of this.
I am not a patient person. Ask anyone who has spent more than five minutes with me, and they will wholeheartedly agree.
I prayed the Lord’s Prayer this morning (Matthew 6:9-15). I’ve always thought that it was weird that Jesus literally laid out exactly how to pray. It always seemed a little to cookie-cutter for me, a little too easy. The truth is the completely opposite. That prayer is a tough one to pray in earnest. “Give us today our daily bread.” This is nice, but I want my bread for tomorrow, too. Actually, I’d love to know that I have bread for like, the next seven decades. “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” That means that if I don’t forgive people, I’m not going to be forgiven. Boy does that suck. “Your will be done.” Yes, but what about my will? What about all of the magical dreams I have put all of my stock in, the ones that I’ve had since I was like, six years old? What about those?
The thing is, God’s Will is always going to be better than my pathetic little plan, anyways. And He has one for me, and He has one for you. It’s not always going to be comfortable, but if we can follow His plan, we won’t have to spend our days writhing and festering in a pool of anxiety. So I’d say it’s not a bad trade-off.
Writhing and festering. Gross.