When it rains, it pours. I hate that saying, because it’s usually
true. Isn’t rain enough? When it pours, there are floods, and when
there are floods, things get messy and bad things can happen. A steady rain is much more manageable than a
downpour. There isn’t much to do about a
heavy rain except take cover and pray that it ceases.
But why does it have to pour? Why, when I
have ten things to do, those ten multiply and become twenty? When I have the time to do ten things,
suddenly ten more get piled on. But the
time never gets piled on, just the things to do. And they all have to be done in the same span
of time. Annoying.
Why is it that when I am feeling overwhelmed,
more life events happen that are seemingly as important as all the other things
that are currently overwhelming me?
Why does this week feel like it’s crawling, when
I already feel like I’m being pulled in 40 different directions each day? It should feel as if it's moving fast. How can I spend days with hardly anything to
do, and then there is a cascade of days where one or both of my children won’t
be eating dinner because of our crazy schedule and I fear for their health, not
to mention my sanity?
I have a million of them. Why do phone calls all come at the same time? Why is the weather so crappy? Why, when I offered to help at the school,
did it occur at a time when I really don’t have the time? Why are my kids’ birthdays so close to other
holidays? The whys go on and on. They
are really just complaints. Complaints
about life, a life that I chose, a life that is really very cushy, one that
allows me to sit in my warm house, wearing my pajamas, and tap away on my
laptop while my stomach is in knots trying to figure out how I’m going to get
through the next few days that are packed with activities that I agreed upon.
I know that complaining never does anyone any
good. It doesn’t fix anything, it doesn’t
change anything, and it only serves to make the complainer look like a spoiled
brat. My mother says that some people
will always find something to complain about.
I guess she is talking about me.
I’m embarrassed when I overbook my life, this
wonderful gift that God gave me, this thing that I so carelessly run at times,
hours and weeks and even years squandered on worthless things, only to complain
about it. If my life were a corporation,
my days as CEO would be numbered.
Why does it pour? I certainly don’t know. I don’t like being blasted with rain. I don’t enjoy feeling like every time I look
up I feel as if I’m drowning. I
especially don’t like the impression that I’m giving off, the one of top
complainer.
I can only believe that it pours because I’m
being taught something. Maybe patience,
maybe peace. Maybe I’ve not been
nurturing my relationship with God and he’s calling me in. Maybe my faith is being stretched. Maybe I’m being – horror of all horrors – prepared for something.
God only gives you what you can handle. Can I be real for a minute and say that I’d
like to punch whoever made that little gem a cliché?
Okay, I’m not really a puncher. How about a really violent eye roll?
*******
You’re going to wear yourself out—and the people, too. This job is too heavy a burden for you to handle all by yourself. Exodus 18:18 (NLT)
Then the wayward will gain understanding, and complainers will accept instruction. Isaiah 29:24 (NLT)
Do everything without complaining and arguing. Philippians 2:14 (NLT)
Ugh, hate that one about not getting more than you can handle, too - but you know that already because you read my blog. It's hard though, isn't it? The not complaining part. I try and try - honest. But some days, you just hit tilt. Although, I find that when I get there I just cry and cry rather than complain. I don't know that it's any better.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read your blog post about it I though huh, we really are on the same page. There must be something about the springtime that makes us all pile on the tasks, like somehow we have all this energy to take everything on. And it's killing me!
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