Struggling on the Cement

The day started early.

Before the sun was up, I was behind the wheel and driving Handsome to the train station in the dark because he wanted to get a jump on his work day. The streets were quiet and all the street lights were green - all was peaceful except my mouth.

In my heart, I am truly thankful for Handsome's job and his work ethic, and although I hate to admit it, you should know that I grumbled at him the whole way to the station.

"Why are we up this early?"
"Why aren't we going to the other, closer train station?"
"Why didn't you have a better plan in place for this morning?"

Yep, that is how I helped him start his day.

That I would grumble at him because I had to take him to the station early in the morning is ridiculous.

RIDICULOUS.

Mind you, it is not like I had to hurry home to get ready for work, take care of children, or do anything during the day that I did not really want to do. The day was free and easy - just like every other day. He works and provides, and I live in the lap of luxury. A very cushy deal. I could have come home and crawled back into bed and slept for hours while he, without complaining, began his long commute and work day, and I had the audacity to grumble at him.

Do you ever wonder at yourself? Just sorta, "Who am I and what is the deal?" Some days I could just gag on my own sense of entitlement and laziness. Should do, anyway.

You know, it didn't even occur to me to feel rotten about my behavior until later... much later. Like now later. I was too concerned about the day ahead to worry about how I had treated him.

Next on the morning's agenda was something new and fun; I was meeting up with a new walking buddy, and as I waited outside for her to arrive, I decided to rescue earthworms from the sidewalk. I found a leaf and started scooping up the worms and tossing them back into the grass. I was thinking very highly of myself too for being so merciful and good and patient while I waited.

I scooped and tossed and scooped and tossed until I really started to get grossed out by the slime and the wriggling and the distrust - "I am trying to help ya here!" I became completely overwhelmed too. There were worms everywhere, and there was no way I could rescue all of them. Rain has been falling falling here lately, and I suppose the worms have been rinsed right out of their homes. I looked around and gave up. My mercy reaches a limit at grossed out and overwhelmed - so it would seem.

So, I waited for Laura, averting my eyes from the ground where worms still struggled on the cement. 

When she arrived, I was relieved to leave the worms. Not my problem, and I had done what I could after all, and wasn't rescuing worms weird anyway? 

Laura is an artist and a cancer survivor, and her conversation is full of words like inspiration and create and technique and design. She is the kind of person that when you are done talking to her, you kinda feel challenged to DO something - anything - just stop sitting around and try to be better than you are... or at least do try to be more interesting.

When she and I finished our walk, my head was buzzing. What have I accomplished? Do I have any talent? Purpose? What should I do? Should I start a creative project? What would that look like? Where does Handsome keep those paint brushes? And why did I promise not to draw again this year?

But, by the time we got home from our walk, I was already late for Bible study, so I ran into the house, grabbed my purse and car keys and ran back out again. I was in a mindset to get on track, to find a purpose for my time and get going, but that would have to wait. It was time to shift gears and focus on some other ladies and, oh yeah, Bible study too.

Since I do not know many of the women in the Bible study group yet, I wanted to be at my best - be impressive and witty and pretty and all of that if you know what I mean. But, as you might remember, I had just put my best foot forward with the other new walking friend, and I was all out of decent feet. In fact, as I sat down, I was pretty sure that I could smell my sweaty tennis shoes.

That is about the time that the sweet, elderly woman seated next to me asked how many missions trips I had been on and to where. My answer? "Uh, yah. Some. Way back in high school, but I've moved a lot since then, so ya know..."

Ugg. So lame.

How is it possible to manage so much failure before 10 a.m.?

And then the Bible study began and this is what I heard:

 "Commit your whole life to the Lord, especially if it looks drastically different than what you had in mind. Don't despair and become frustrated in the seasons of waiting that the Lord might allow you to go through. Rather, ask Him to allow your spiritual eyes to clearly see His hand in every aspect of each season. Fully engage and rely on His Spirit to empower you to do what He has called you to do."

Thank you, dear Priscilla Shirer, for that word, but here is the thing, you just totally shifted my thinking.  Any time I am faced with words like frustration and disappointment, my mind immediately goes to infertility. So for a minute, while we finished Bible study, I forgot about my appearance and desperation to fit in and really started to think about my purpose in Christ - without children.  What could there be for me to accomplish instead? How can this life be used? I have no idea. But the theme of the lesson seemed to be all about moving beyond the devastation, anger and fear, and to the relief of trusting that God's plan is best.

For a long, quiet time, I continued along, waiting to get pregnant, caving in on myself some when it didn't happen, and creating a small, self-centered little life. And then, Handsome and I moved. In fact, the move came at just about the time I was feeling a bit more at terms with the idea of never having children. Is it coincidence that I suddenly find myself surrounded with women who are not so concerned with where you are or where you have been, but what are you accomplishing now?   

I was wondering on this idea when yet another new friend, Esther, leaned over and asked me to lunch.  She must not have noticed the stinky tennis shoes, worm-slime still clinging to my fingers, the grumbling guilt, or the look of perplexed confusion, do you think?

Esther is originally from Iran. Her features are dark and lovely and her perspective is different than that of almost anyone I have met. At lunch, she talked about the persecution of Christians and escape and the abuse of unloved women all over the world and the importance of voting in our next election. She talked about things so much more important than the frivolous things which I worry over and become consumed.

Stunned. I left our luncheon stunned.

And horrified at myself.

It was a rough morning. It wasn't even one in the afternoon yet, but my perspective had been completely altered - shaken out of myself - rattled into reality.

And now, all I can say is that I am so glad that God does not give up on us. He is merciful and just. He does not become too grossed out by our self-centered slime but has covered it and washes us clean. He is gentle and loving when He scoops up our lives to move us in unexpected directions. Our problems are never too overwhelming for Him, and He doesn't even give up on us when we do not trust Him and complain that we would have preferred to have struggled on the cement and died because that was our own purpose and plan.  
He is gracious and has been so good to this worm.

I don't think I have a purpose for sharing this with you except to record the morning. I don't want to forget the order of events or their effect.

Truly, I am not sure what to do with the encouragement - the exhortation. Would you?

So, for now, I am clinging to this...

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your path straight." Proverbs 3:5-6

...and you can believe that I will be kissing on Handsome a little extra tonight.