I Made A Deal, And Want to Break It

I made a deal to be angry at God until the following conditions were met:
Blah,
Blah Blah,
Blahblahblah.
Blah-blah-Blah-blahblah…
Etc.

Those conditions have not been met.  Yet.  I’m still frustrated.  I still want what I want.  But I’m small and of a tiny will, and I have lost most of my resolve to stay angry.

In the interim of my wrath (does anyone else hear God laughing?) I’ve asked for the small things, and almost every one of the things I have thought quietly would be nice, have been granted.  Small, tiny things, too small to be thought of by anyone else as miraculous.  There are still several bigger things that I wanted which have not.

I have blessings, including most of what I need, just not all of the blessings I wanted to feel entitled to.  And really, maybe, these little blessings are adding up in my soul.  Or maybe God’s trying to tell me He’s not unaware, but the big things I want, like a three year old at Stuff*-Mart (not the store’s real name) wants every kind of toy and candy available, aren’t going to be given to me right now.  Maybe “right now” is the key.

God, I hate to wait.  I REALLY hate to wait.  And I still want what I want.
Thanks for the little things.  They are really appreciated.  If I have to wait, please don’t give me patience along the journey, because I know what a person has to live through to get that.  If you click the link, peek around and be sure not to miss the word choice from King James, it basically says that to get patience you have to endure trials.

I DO NOT WANT THEM.  The daily trials are enough, sometimes so big I don’t really want to get out of bed.  I continually force myself to, because bills, groceries, and family don’t live on love, although I frequently wish it were possible.  My reward for getting out of bed is that lately I’ve felt slightly less depressed.  Oh, I’m still down, my arms are heavy and I want to eat too much and drink something and then just go back to sleep, but I can’t.

I still wait until Friday or Saturday on most weeks to have a single drink, or occasionally two for the heat of yardwork.  That’s the thing.  I can have it, and it’s a blessing.  It’s one of those blessings that helps me relax and worry less about what I don’t have.  Yet.

So this anger with God is dulling (in the present absence of alcohol or other mind-altering substance or experience) to a gentle malaise.  Maybe tomorrow it’ll dull to mere melancholy.  I’d like to get all the way back to a positive relationship, after all, Christ followers are supposed to Love God.  But I’m just still feeling rubbed the wrong way, just chafed and just slightly still dissatisfied overall.  It used to be MUCH worse.  Not as bad as a toothache.  I am in need of a bit of expensive dentistry but I’m not to a toothache yet.  If this is Divine Intervention, I think I like it just fine, more please?  But if I get a toothache, I’ll need more Divine Intervention.  Or better insurance.  Or maybe both.

So I’m not really raging any more.  Or yet.  Maybe this is patience enough for me.  I’ll take it and call it “enough for now.”  But I’d really really like to get closer to “love.”  Hey!  In another place it says “Love is patient.”  So, God (why does that sound like Futurama’s Dr. Zoidberg in my head?).  Is that enough to believe I do actually love You?

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