There’s a saying that goes, “If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger.”
So far, we’re still here. Not dead. I must be freakin’ Wonder Woman by now.
So why don’t I feel strong?
The things that are wearing down the last vestiges of what I used to think of as pride and dignity, are also the things that, truly, are blessings. After a fashion.
Things like generous staff – staff, mind you: people I should be paying (and can’t) – donating groceries to my family. Or debt collectors who feel so sorry for me when they call, they take down my resume details to see if they can help me find work.
Huh. It’s so kind and so amazing and such a life saver.
And I hate it.
I guess I need to learn some grace. I hope that, at least on the outside, that’s what’s coming across.
Today I received an email telling the story of a young man who argued with his dad and stopped speaking to him after his dad gave him a Bible for his graduation, instead of the car he’d coveted so long and loudly. As his father lay dying, the young man rushed to his bedside to make amends, only to find that he was too late. It fell to him to wind up the estate, as all his father’s belongings had been left to him. As he cleaned up, he found the Bible his dad had given him for his graduation, as yet unopened. He gently removed the Bible from its box, and a key fell out … to the car he’d wanted all those years ago.
The moral is that God’s blessings don’t always come packaged the way we expect them to.
It really spoke to me, and I am working to see how that is true in this case. I know I will look back and understand so much better.
In the meantime, if you’re the praying sort, I could use your prayers.
I’ll get back to my attitude reboot tomorrow. For today, I’m just a little sad.