A Season of Bitterness
Posted Monday, October 23, 2006, 01:08 PM
I got my first traffic ticket ever this weekend. I was helping set up the reception site for a friend of mine’s wedding, in Monrovia. The site is only about 2 blocks from the church. I left with plenty of time to spare, so I was not even in a rush to get to the church on time. I pull off onto Foothill Blvd, a major street. I made a right, on a read light. I got about half a block, and I saw lights in my mirror. The officer informed me, after checking my paperwork, that the intersection of Primrose and Foothill is a no right on red.
So now I have to take a day off work and go into Pasadena to the courthouse, On Dec 12. I’m told by friends that I need to take my driver’s course within 18 days of receiving my citation. The good part is that we purchased car insurance last week, so that we could get our registration renewed at DMV this month. Looks like we are going to have to put that registration money towards getting my ticket taken care of. At least my car was not impounded.
Also this weekend, my wife hurt herself. She was getting into a car and slipped on the curb. Her ankle is severely sprained, and looks really bruised. So she is not going to be able to start working again for at least another two weeks. Not to mention the fact that she does not have any medical coverage, so we can’t take her to a doctor. The up side to that is that, even if she did break something, there is nothing that can be done. The only thing a doctor and do different than what we can do is prescribe pain meds, and give her a cast. We have connections for both.
It’s Monday. And today is really kicking my ass. I feel like Teresa and I were just about to get things set on the road to recovery, and now we get kicked in the gut. All while in the process of helping our friends out. A friend of mine called me to say they had a blow out on the freeway, and the first thing I felt was “at least some one else other than me is suffering as well.”
So going back to the list of thing Trinity needs:
A higher paying job
Health Insurance for he and his wife
A break from the crap that is life right now
I’m so mad right now, and I don’t know what to be mad at. Nothing is within my control to change. I’ve applied for job after job, get turned down. Teresa has done what she can do, and now she is unable to walk around. I’m waiting for that big change that is supposed to come for those who wait, those to expect miracles to happen, those who don’t complain about what they do not have, and all I’ve gotten is more disappointment.
Yes I’m over reacting. Yes I’m venting. You would to if you felt that you have to be strong, all the time, work and home, so that people can get through their day. As a crisis counselor I see kids who are going through crap all the time. They look to me for answers. I’ve run out. I can’t even find the answers for my own crisis, how the hell am I supposed to help others?
Something’s got to give! Something has to come from all of this striving and working! And then the little voice in the back of my head says, “Who says? Who says anything has to come from it?” And I don’t have an answer for that question, that is not seeped in dogmatic drivel that I no longer believe. My heart still burns with a passion, a longing, an unquenchable fire. It longs for a reason. It begs for the answer to why. So I guess I’ll go back to my pile of ashes, and continue to watch my life fall apart bit by bit till nothing is left.
Isn’t that what Evangelicals teach us today? Suffering is only to prepare us and shape us into better people. Only through the refining by fire do the impurities come out of the precious metal. I have an alternate explanation. Fire and suffering test us to see how much we can take. It’s a test. A test, a proving ground, sent to us by a God who wants to see us make it through. Well I’m done. I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m sick of playing games. But that’s the trick to the who messed up thing. If you don’t play, you suffer eternal torment, not ever being able to be in his presence ever again.
The adolescent boy inside me screams to this, “stop fucking with my head.” While everyone around me talks about trust, and relying on God, I’m saying trust is a two way street. Right now I can trust God to keep me just enough in the fire that I’m in agonizing pain, but still alive to feel it. I also see that he’s the one who’s hand is holding me in the fire and not withdrawing it from the flame. Maybe I’m not justified in my feelings, but he made me this way so if he isn’t big enough to deal with it and still love me than he must not be the all powerful, all knowing, all present God that I was taught he is.
Job got the short end of the stick. God never did answer his questions, God never did stand up to the accusations that what had been done was unjust. Because God, by shear definition of the word, can not be wrong. So when he messes up, we explain it away as not being able understand his grand plan. The reality is we make an excuse when we grant him that exception. When Job wishes he had never been born, maybe he’s really saying, “If you such a great and just God, why the hell did you bother to make things the way they are, O wise and all powerful one?”
Stand back, the lightning is going to fall. At least then the fight would be over. I don’t want to win, I just want to live a life that I don’t have to fight for ever dam day.