Life has been sobering recently. (Which implies I'm normally drunk, or high, so that is really a goofy statement.) It's been stacked with serious issues that take some deep thought.
1. Like ISIS, or ISIL, or whatever. It's clear we are going to be dealing with these terrorists for quite a while. It's frightening.
2. Yesterday was the 13th anniversary of the 9/11/2001 terrorist attack. This always makes me sad.
3. UTIs. I never knew a urinary tract infection (or 8) could cause such problems.
4. Publication issues. I'm a first-time author, and my brain is in constant turmoil about which direction to take my book, The 12 Days of Christmas Adventure. I think about it so much, my brain feels like this.
Doesn't this give you a headache just looking at it?
5. In addition, we received a letter today that our bank account was one of the many compromised in the recent Home Depot hack. Ironic, as my husband is an operations manager for Home Depot.
Life is scary and sad and anxiety-ridden at times. Sometimes, it makes me long for heaven. Like, right now.
When I think of the horrors going on in the middle east, the beheadings, the kidnappings, the brutal taking of human life, it's more than I can stomach. Please, come, Lord. We clearly don't know how to get along. Our hearts are so depraved and corrupt, we don't deserve the life you have given us.
When I take Dad to one more doctor, and we hear that he is becoming immune to antibiotics because he has had so many in the past year, my heart aches. I pray, Lord, we need your peace and your guidance, because we are coming to the end of what medicine can do to kill a nasty bug called pseudomonas.
When I don't know which avenue (of several) to take with my book, I just do nothing, which is stupid, because then no progress is made. Some days I just can't get past this. So, I bake some cookies. And eat too many.
When we get a second letter (my credit card was hacked a few months ago) that our finances have been compromised because some people are greedy, destructive thieves, I want to go back to the barter system. You launder my clothes, and I'll make you cookies. We can swap chores and resources, and forget the paper money and silver coins. I might have had more peace of mind living on the Prairie next to the Ingalls.
We just seem to be making such a mess of things. Why can't we be kind, and respectful, and share?
I realize I'm not the first human to raise these questions. And I know the answer, I just wish it was different. I wish it was repairable. But, as long as we have free will, there will be messes and hatred and disease. It's the price we pay for freedom.
So, it's not a dilemma I can solve. But, how God must grieve for how we live. The people we destroy, the opportunities we waste, the gifts we squander, it's all so ruinous.
For the past couple of weeks, I've been taking a little wooden cross with me to bed at nights. It's shaped to fit in the grip of a hand.
I talk to God as I grow sleepy and ask Him to help me see things from His view. He sees all the details of everything, and only He can assure me that, no matter what, He's got His hand on me.
Money will come and go, America will always have enemies, my parents will (probably sooner than later) pass from this life, and my book may never leave my computer. I need to remember this life is temporary. I need to hold all things lightly, because all things come to pass. They don't come to stay.
In the end, injustices will be righted, and goodness will be rewarded. And whatever I can do to walk justly and humbly with my God is all I can do. It's all I can do.