Wednesday, October 15, 2008

What is He trying to tell me???

If you know me well, then you know that my tendencies can lean toward control-freak-perfectionist-control-clean-tidy-control-control-control-ish-ness. That's why this leg-broken business is such a test of my faith. Beyond words!
Right now, I am sitting on a couch disgusted with my house. It is FILTHY. Normally I clean my entire house weekly - dust, vacuum, mop, scrub, spray, wipe - the works. But since my injury nearly three weeks ago, I have hardly picked up a wash rag to wash my own body let alone a mop to clean the floors. Ugh. And to think that I might have another month of this.
But that's where the big guy upstairs comes in. It's as if snapping my ankle in half was his cute way of showing me that he is the only one with any control around here. I can just hear him saying, "So what, your house is dirty? Do you know what kind of a mess I am dealing with everyday? Your measly crumbs in the couch are nothing compared to the you-know-what that I have to sort through with every freakin' human being in every flippin' city, state, country around the world. I'm in charge. I'm the big guy. You - you get to sit on a couch all day. Now quit your whinin' and start glorifyin'. Ya hear?" Okay, so he probably wouldn't be so fiesty, that was actually my fiesty-ness seeping through, but that's why he's God and I'm not.
So I guess I'm supposed to use this and learn from it. Actually, I know that I'm supposed to use this and learn from it. I know that God is awesome, and that compared to him, I'm even measlier than those measly crumbs in my couch. 
So, Lord, I ask you to give me a hand. Help me to check my attitude at the door and give thanks to the big guy upstairs who has never, not once, let me down.