What A Day I'm Having....

     So why is it that when you are having a good day, and all is right with the world…you get whapped with the rolled up newspaper of life? You’re cruising along doing fine, and are actually accomplishing much of what you have set out to do. But then, one silly thing happens and sometimes that is all it takes to make you wish that you could go curl-up like a boiled shrimp and contemplate your navel for a few hours.  
     Sometimes you can just shake certain incidences off, “no big deal” You say, smiling serenely, but the Powers and Principalities will have none of it, and this causes a cascade of poopy, if you will, that begins that downhill roll, picking up momentum, until it turns into a giant avalanche of crud.
     I am a person that truly lives within my emotions. This is not good folks. Oh I envy the analytical minds out there that can just swat away the flies of irritation that like to buzz around us as though we were their own personal garbage dump. But this is not my style. No. At first I will wave it off. Trying to remember all of what I know as a Christian, trying to let the Lord take the situation.  And sometime, lo-and-behold it happens…glorious peace. That is when I am really walking in His Spirit.
     BUT, some days just aren’t that victorious. Some days you don’t see the flies beginning to circle until you suddenly find yourself wishing for some existential Raid! Some “annoying-person-be-gone” Spray, or some industrial sized “incident” traps that will just “Snaaaap” up the situation and, poof! It’s gone. Oh the verminous junk the Powers and Principalities likes to pitch at you.
     Still even as I write this, I begin to calm down. I recognize myself for the dork that I am. I say to myself, “What is your problem? Do you live in a tin-shack or a mud hut? Do you have to haul your brown water in a jug on your head every day for two miles? Do you live in a country where you cannot fart without someone chasing you down in the name of someone else and beating you senseless with sharp sticks?
     Are you the blind woman in the rose garden? Are you the deaf man at the symphony? Are you the piteous individual with their jaw wired shut at the All You Can Eat Shrimp Buffet for $5.99 (beverage and dessert included)? Answer: No, of course you are not, you ungrateful feeb. At once this puts many of the difficulties of the day into perspective.
     Now here; I am talking about the typical kind of flies buzzing day, not those medium-gall and bitter-bitter-wormwood kinds where you find yourself pleading before a judge or watching the doctor stripping off his rubber gloves in a worried manner, or the bank calling to remind you that if you have not vacated by Monday they will be stopping around with the attack dogs. Those kinds of days are somewhere in between the mere annoying and the black and gaping maw. Still you definitely deserve full sympathy from anyone who will listen. If they choose not to, you are allowed to grab them by the shirt collar until they comply.
     And, by God’s grace, this was NOT one of the “Medium” days. And by “Medium” again I mean somewhere in between the “Crud avalanche-fly-buzzing” and the “Severe Retribution of the Sharp Stick.” And since this was merely; an existential fly buzzing, avalanche of poopy, kind of day I give thanks.
     After all; Now, good food is cooking and family surrounds me, and I just got a hug and a note with my name on it from my five year old grandson! So really to complain would be like griping about getting a splinter from the life-boat on the Titanic.
    This was a very cathartic blog post. The kind of blog that may make you say: “Why did she bother?” But it is the kind that gives me back my piece of happy. It shows me glimmers of wonderful. I need that. I need to be reminded on the general “poopy’ days that things could always be a million-jillion times worse and that all of those little flies eventually fly away. And I need to learn to stop living with my
emotions right out there for everyone and everything to tap-dance on. That is my bad. That is where I fail. If I always let everybody else’s whims and emotions control me then I am the prisoner of everyone. Not a good way to live! Not healthy and God is working on that in me.
      Of course, since the last paragraph I have found myself in an argument with my grandson on what he has written on a piece of paper. He started to cry, but I held my ground until his Dad stepped in and refereed. Call me Grandma Wank if you wish, but sometimes you have to stick to your guns….

Tonya Willman ©2010