A Rotten Day

Let me preface this with - I hate when people say things just to get attention.  I am not one of those people who makes up depression or melancholiness.  If I feel rotten, most of the time, I am just mean to people.  It's the only way to not have to deal with anything.  Just be mean, people go away and leave me alone - that is what I WANT when I feel depressed.  I don't want pity.  With that...

I am having a day of emotional deterioration.  I know God is on the throne.  I know Jesus loves me.  I know that what I am going through is a walk in the park compared to some.  But, why does it feel like you're the only one, when a day of constant tears comes along?  I listened to the radio in the car and heard endless songs with messages of God's love amidst the loneliness and garbage we face.  It is a consolation, but then I got home.

I won't go into detail.  Let me just say my house is not a home.  It hasn't been since I was single.  When I lived alone, things were just right.  Most everything had a place, and even though I was messy, my house wasn't dirty.  Now, it is dirty.  Filthy.  Unhealthy to live in.  By fault of my husband and myself.  I'd rather be at work.  AT WORK.  And, I don't even like it there.

I thought moving would change things.  It only changed the location of our grime.  My husband is going to read this and feel like I'm guilt-tripping him.  I don't care.  Maybe he needs to be.  But, not by me.  He is blind to what this does to me.  And him picking up after himself one or two times a month doesn't cut it.  He has never run a house.  It takes unrelenting obedience.  I can have a spotless kitchen.  The next day, it can be demolished by him, and he thinks I'm the mean one when I go off.  Sorry, Paul.  I can't contain myself.  I have cried all day today because of many things.  

I cried because I can't go to my own birthday dinner - a "family" dinner that is supposed to involve celebrating several of our birthdays.  It's on a day when I can't go.  Why?  

I cried because I was asked on short notice to drive on an overnight trip with two friends.  This is causing me stress because the car is loaded with JUNK that I can't bear to bring in the house because of the current status.  Not my friends' fault for asking, but ours for not keeping our vehicles ready for such an occasion.  

I cried because once I dropped my husband off for him to go to the family dinner with his parents, I had forgotten that I had to drive 17 miles out to drop off a job project to my mom.  

I cried because when I got into the car, the tire was nearly flat and I had to drive to inflate it.  Once there, I realized I didn't have my wallet.  I had to drive back to the house again before leaving town.

I cried when I got back home because I have no clean clothes that fit, and I have to pack an overnight bag.  I am wearing sweats and a t-shirt that doesn't fit me; I can't visit a friend's parents looking like this.  

I cried because I need a shower, but there are fecal-matter-covered linens and fecal matter on the bathtub all over.  I don't know where to put the dirty blankets to even wash the tub and take a shower.  

Then, I cried because I stood up from checking my e-mail to go DO something, and I don't know where to go.  I don't know what to do.  I decided to sit down and write this blog.  Not in the hopes that anyone reading would feel sorry for me, but in the hopes that God will hear me through this message and comfort my soul.  

I'll cry again tomorrow because my friends are expecting to stop at my house, and I'm not going to let them in, due to the bags of dirty diapers and smell of fecal matter and dog urine.  I can't expose that part of me to them.  They know it's there, but it's not real to them until you step in, smell the pungent aroma of stale diarrhea sitting in the commode my husband doesn't empty as often as he should, and you gag every time you get a whif of it.  But, I'm mean.  I lack compassion.  I expect too much.

I guess if I just start expecting filth and rotting waste, I won't feel so badly the next time I walk in my door.

Baby Ass

Bet that title got your attention....

It was brought up in Pastor Keith Porter's sermon today (www.hillsdalefmc.org) about when Jesus was riding the donkey to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, that it was miraculous that the donkey behaved perfectly (or so we assume, since there was no mention of it being unruly).  This is because the young donkey was unbroken, had never been ridden, and there were hoards of people surrounding it while Jesus was on its back.  PK explained that the ass was aware of Jesus and as a part of nature, the donkey was not unruly because it was connected to the Master of the Universe (not He-Man, either), its very Creator and Savior of all the earth.  PK said we can never understand why the donkey behaved in this way because we are constantly fighting nature.

When he first brought this up, I thought something else.  I thought, hmmm, I'm like that donkey when I let Jesus lead me.  I can be docile and behave and pleasing to him, following the path on which he leads me.  But, then, I'm like - get OFF my back, Jesus!  I can't be perfect all the time!  I don't WANT to go up the Mount of Olives...I want to slide down the ridge and be by myself.  So became the people who crucified him.  I can't imagine that I would have been one of those people, but wouldn't I have been?  I murder him every day when I sin and don't repent.  

Praise to the Father for his patience.  If I were my parent, I would have drowned me a long time ago.  Maybe he feels that way sometimes too - disgusted at his creation...Jesus wept for Jerusalem, even though these people were dirt rockets who had turned their backs on the one true God.  I don't cry for the lost; do you?  Maybe if we did, we'd be more concerned about the witness we carry every day for him.  Is it adequate to make a difference?

Dirtball

Ever look at someone in the WalMart check line and think, "What a dirtball,"?  Come on...be honest with yourself.  Maybe  you have; maybe you haven't.  The one thing we all have in common, no matter what answer you gave yourself, is that the Creator made us all in His image.  So, I have come to the conclusion that we're ALL dirtballs.  Heck yeah!

I often have the feeling that the things I say to people in "authority" (self-imposed authority or otherwise) is taken in the wrong spirit.  You know, I am a straightforward person most of the time, and I appreciate that in other people.  But, in this day and age, it's not tolerated.  The "tolerant" are actually INtolerant!  Of the very people who seem to make the most sense.  Like, when I use the word "dirtball".  What is the problem?  Get over yourself and off your pedestal of greatness!  You are a loser too!  Maybe even moreso than the rest of us, just because you think I'm inappropriate for not being a fake!

It's always been that way for me.  So, since I am someone who is sensitive, yet angry...it usually all comes out in the wash, at the most inappropriate times, I'll admit.  

What's my point?  If we weren't all saved by God's grace...Jesus Christ...there would BE no point.  If he didn't ride into town on that ass just to be murdered within the week, I might as well shoot myself in the head.  I am so thankful that he did.  God loves all the dirtballs, even the ones who are drunk and talking on their cell phone in their front yard in your neighborhood yelling, "Well ya ARE still my husband, or dontcha even care?"  In fact, if Jesus were here, he'd probably act as if he loves them MORE than those of us with our polished etiquette and conversational skills.  Boy, would THAT ever piss off the Republicans who SAY they want to protect conservative Christian values in America.  Sure you do...till it means you have to get your hands dirty.  And not by the usual means of a politician's dirty persona.