“I know
God won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish he didn’t trust me so
much.”
(Mother
Teresa)
Okay . . . what did I do?
What did I do for God to trust me so
much?
I think that Mother Teresa, in all of
her honesty, asks the question many of us—the faithful—ask. We wonder why . . . why in the world . . . if
God does not ever give us more than we can handle . . . trust us so much with
the load that God dumps on us. You’ve
got to admit that the little nun asks the question a whole bunch of us do not
have the guts to answer . . . why does God trust us so much that we feel as if
we have had the whole world dumped into our laps?
Now I am not Mother Teresa by any
stretch of the imagination . . . not even close. For one thing, I am not a Catholic . . . but,
I am one who professes to be a follower of Jesus . . . which makes me a “Christian”. I have not dedicated my life to helping those
who are less fortunate than me as Mother Teresa did. Shoot, I have not even made a vow of helping
those who are in the middle class . . . so, why does God seem to think that it
is okay to trust me so much when it comes to life?
Yeah, I have a few laments . . . or
complaints. The past month and half have
been a little bit more than I can handle.
It starts out with the oldest son having his car stolen. It is followed by me hitting a suicidal deer
. . . ran right into my car. Followed by
the wife getting all religious and heading off for a ten day retreat far, far
from the homestead. The daughter having
a sort of melt down. The University of
Nebraska Cornhuskers getting whipped in a football game. The son having his stolen car found and returned
after he was all set to buy a newer and more improved car . . .
disappointment. Getting a warning ticket
for speeding. The wife’s truck costing a
hefty sum for some old age problems.
And, the fact that I feel overworked and tired. Not to add to the lament, but two Dachshund
that ignore me and think that I am nothing more than a mere servant to their
dietary and bathroom needs. Yeah, I have
a few complaints, or laments, that make me wonder why in the world the good
Lord seems to think that I can handle whatever life throws at me.
I mean . . . I don’t want to complain;
but, why does it seem as if God is piling it on?
I like, no, love God. I appreciate having Jesus as an example as to
how one should be faithful and how to live life. I appreciate the beauty of where God has
allowed me to live. I appreciate all
that God has done for me. I picture
myself as a fairly faithful person who takes the time to study the scriptures,
offer a few prayers throughout the day, and even take a moment or two each day
to be more “Christ-like” in what I am doing.
I picture myself as a fairly faithful sort of an individual. I picture myself as one who should receive a
heck of a lot of more blessings in life . . . but, what I get is more heartache
and problems. It is like God is dumping
on me!
I think that God over-estimates me
when it comes to what I can handle. Of
course I know that God designed and created us each as unique individuals; but,
I wonder if God has any idea of what it means to be any of us. I wonder if God gets that life is pretty
difficult without the added extras of life.
What does God think I am . . . some sort of a saint?
Well, if that is what God believes . .
. I have God fooled! I am far, far from
being a saint.
Where do I begin? When I drive I am far from being a
saint. I use sign language to express my
displeasure of other drivers as a symbolic expression of a verbal barrage that
the other driver cannot hear. It used to
be a one finger salute, now it has become a thumbs up since sarcasm is such a
powerful expression of discontent. There
ain’t much saintly about my driving.
Maybe it is the way that I handle
people who come across my life as being imbeciles . . . especially at
meetings. I really try to show respect,
but I cannot help but to roll my eyes whenever I find an individual wasting my
time. Since I find most meetings to be a
waste of time, my eyes get a major workout on a regular basis. I bite my tongue. Nothing works. I am wired to roll my eyes whenever someone
comes across as being a total waste of time . . . .the last I saw my eye balls
they were somewhere in Utah.
It has been said that we save the best
and worse for those we love. It is with
those I love that I find myself being pushed to the limits. Rolling eyes . . . biting the tongue . . .
nothing seems to work. I get
frustrated. I get grumpy. I get sarcastic. Nothing changes. Yet, these are the people I love.
Stolen cars.
Cars hitting deer and causing
thousands of dollars of damage.
Warnings for speeding.
Wife abandoning me to be religious and
loving towards her mother.
Work.
Mice in the garage.
The Cornhuskers losing a game.
Yeah, God does not give us more than
we can handle! I’d switch places with
God at the drop of a hat! So far, God
has not accepted my challenge. As much
as I love God . . . I could use a break.
I know a guy down the road who could
use a little heartache and adventure dropped his way to give me a little
relief. He doesn’t have a whole bunch
going on in his life . . . God could do a Job number on this neighbor. It never happens. Instead God seems to just keep on piling it
on. As I said, I could use a break.
Yet, I know . . . I know that God will
keep adding to the list of heartache and problems that inflict my life. I know that God will keep on piling it on . .
. keep on adding on to the little miseries that God seems to think will make a
difference in discovering who it is that God created me to be . . . sadly, God
and I do not see eye-to-eye on this one.
Yet, it is God’s will in my life that I am pursuing. I just wish God gave a clearer set of
guideline. It would sure be sad if I
ended up in some jail just because I thought that God was piling it on.
I am asking God for a break. A break in which I can entertain my daughter,
son-in-law, and two granddaughers in the simple things about life that most of
us miss because we are too busy living life.
I ask God not to trust me so much . . . try to remind God about all of
the snafus I have . . . and, to squander all the blessings God has sent me in
these times of trouble. But, I am
getting older, wiser (the jury is still out on this opinion) . . . the eyes
roll easier . . . the sign language seems to be working . . . but, I still wish
God did not trust me so much.
So, what is one to do when God trust
him or her too much?
I am not sure.
On the one hand, I appreciate God’s
faithfulness to me; but, on the other hand, God needs to give me a break. I would take no stolen cars . . . no cars hit
by deer . . . a wife who stays home . . . vehicles that do not break down . . .
and, just a simple, plain life. I just
wish God did not trust me so much.
But . . . God does. God trusts me. Within these adventures God calls me to
return home . . . to be in relationship with God and one another. God sticks to me despite what life throws at
me. If God is willing to stick by me . .
. well, I guess the worse I could do is to stick by God. Things are going to change; but the one
constant is God’s trust in me. It does not matter what I do . . . God is going
to still love me. It is here that I
grow. As much as Mother Teresa
understood what it means to be faithful . . . so do I.
Gimme a break, Lord. A couple of easy days just might do the
trick! In the mean time . . . Give me a
break!
No comments:
Post a Comment