Wallowing Wednesday Is Over

I can’t think of anything more annoying than needing to be at church when I am crabby. Unable to cast off my commitment, I had to show up when I wanted to stay on the couch, under the blanket and watch reruns of the Office. My day started out poorly and went downhill with each passing moment. I was reminded of a favorite children’s book, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good , Very Bad Day” that I read to my kids and now to Plum when a day has just been rough. Alexander wants to move to Australia, the solution to everything going wrong from the moment he gets out of bed. Australia was looking realy good to me yesterday.

After receiving unwelcome news, I wallowed in self-pity, familiar territory where little was required of me, anger and bitterness could fester.  The dishes stayed dirty, the floor didn’t get swept. I sat and stewed until I finally ran out of time and had to get to church. Loading up my car with all the makings for the evening meal proved Herculean, the pork chops Chef had cut the evening before had leaked all over my fridge, the box stuck to the shelf. One crock pot didn’t ever get turned on, the apples weren’t cooked for the applesauce. At the church, the grill wouldn’t light. A local group was using our site for a meeting all week, they had their stuff in my way. I snuck outside to smoke one last cigarette before beginning, trying to find some peace. The only spot away from everyone was the preschool playground, the enclosed area with only a sliver of shelter from the rain. As I exited the building the door slipped from my grasp and I was locked out, fenced in, smoking on the playground. Royally pissed at the world, myself and even God who clearly had nothing to door with my bad habit, I had to climb the fence and walk around the building to gain entrance again. Maybe that was my chance to come in with a better attitude. I missed it.

One hundred and fifty chops had to be cooked inside with 10 minutes to go before service. I    was frustrated with Chef who had no control over the grill that wouldn’t light. I was irritated by all these people who came in with smiles and words of encouragement. Could they not sense that I was trying to wallow? No, they chose to eat the dinner, forgive the delay, compliment the macaroni and cheese, continue bringing smiles to my frown. What is wrong with these people? This is exactly why I didn’t want to be there. How can I possibly hold on to self-pity, how can I focus on everything that is wrong when these people insist on surrounding me? At the end of our class when we shared prayer concerns, I stated that it had been a rough week. One gentleman suggested I was ready for a blessing. Damnit. Straight to my soul. How could I sit among these people and not acknowledge how blessed I am? Because I AM so very blessed in big and small ways every day, even bad days.

At almost 53, I was still able to climb that fence. The dinner was cooked, the fridge will get cleaned. I have more hurdles ahead, so much unknown. If this group of people accept me on my crabby days, refuse to let go of a sister who is hurting and lashing out, what else do I really need? Maybe if I just keep showing up the rest will become clear. Yesterday was the day the Lord made, I did little rejoicing. Some days are just like that. God gave me a new day, another chance to be glad and work on my attitude. Wallowing Wednesday is over. Thankful Thursday has arrived. I am grateful no one witnessed me trying to climb that fence, that I didn’t rip my jeans. I am thankful Wednesday is behind me. I’m glad I have hot coffee, a warm home, a loving husband, and friends who show me grace. I am not researching ticket prices to Australia just yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s