I consider myself a fairly logical girl. Girl implying the full range of emotional responses. I’ve got LOTS of sarcasm to cover all of the vulnerability…but occasionally it doesn’t conceal them…it whips off the cover like a tarp in the wind. Despite my logic, when it comes to my children or my love there are times when the strong logical approach will take a step down and allow the emotional method to give it a whirl…which ALWAYS ends with me feeling like the culprit (hence the title) and puffy eyes.
I have this really BAD habit of trying to rely on myself when it comes to things that really can’t be handled on my own. When I was on my mission I would so go through cycles where I would feel very sturdy and try to take things on. As I would weaken I would hand more and more over to the Lord, knowing full well that He was the only one who could really help me and show me how to deal. At times I would beg Him to take it all. And He did. Little by little as I grew stronger I would take things back until (brilliant) I was holding everything again, completely overwhelmed…and there He was…hands extended…allowing me to give back the things that I just couldn’t or didn’t know how to handle.
Wasn’t I supposed to grow out of that when I became an adult? Wasn’t I supposed to figure it all out and know how to handle love? And loss? And brattiness? And tantrums? And disappointment? And patience? Wasn’t I supposed to have this remarkable innate ability to keep my perspective and my cool because I was a grown up? I think my heart (figuratively speaking) is faulty. It’s altogether too impulsive (no pun intended). One thing that I DO know that works is my post-awareness. I need to move it to PRE-awareness. I need some extra pre-meta-cognition, if you please. To save me from putting my foot in my mouth or from letting my anger and frustration get the better of me…and then I need a REALLY GOOD eye cream.
Lovies and chums (and self), heed my advice. Beware of stupidity in sheep’s clothing. Beware of lame things that seem monumental and escalate at super sonic speed…unless, of course, you love humble pie…then we can eat it together. I guarantee I suck more than you. As long as you understand that and don’t try to dissuade me (which will annoy me and I’ll snap at you and then feel bad and then I’ll have to eat humble pie over you…please, spare me) we can sit at the same table happily and discuss the ins and outs of pie crust and filling.
All is well. I promise. I’m just unflatteringly human. And those days keep the experience real…painfully real. Someday I’ll get it. I’ll step back enough to see the process WHILE it’s happening AND keep my cool. I hope. I’m working on it. That’s the best I can do presently. At least I can kind of giggle about it…and hopefully make you do the same as you read and (not out rightly) admit that you may have felt similarly. All of this happens for a reason…which you may or may not know…which will mean a different thing on a different day…which will pull you and push you and make you laugh and cry…but the wisdom gleaned from said trials and living…make you amazing and miraculous…albeit weathered and scarred a bit. So the objective wasn’t to make it through this life without battle wounds and scars, nor will our success be about how much we can handle on our own…but to accumulate the lessons…to learn the fundamentals…and to learn how to rely and trust. It’s about keeping our perspective on the things that really matter, right?
It’ll be okay. I won’t write this stuff all the time. It’s sobering…well, sort of…take it with a grain of salt. My point in broadcasting is that we’re not alone.
Hand your stuff over. Lean a bit. It’s okay. Lean a LOT. It’s still oaky. Roll with it. Breathe. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Admit it when you’re less than your best. Get over it. Then be your best. Love the good and the bad. Just love. It’s not going to all go away when you grow up. As long as you’re someone’s child (in its many contexts) you still got growin’ to do.