I sit contentedly with at my computer. The cat
is on my lap and I’m sipping coffee from my favorite coffee cup. All is right with
my world. There are no troubles to face here.
In my young age, I
didn’t know how to deal with my troubles well. I would sit in school, or more
likely in my room at home, with my math book open in front of me. The numbers
would be stacked up like torturous pillars of confusion and agony. I would
stare at the math problems and not even be able to remember my basic
multiplication facts. My mind would slide away from the math book and come to
another place. I’m not proud of where I went, which was where I was beating up
the authors of the math textbook. I would sit at my desk at home or school. The
math problems would vanish and there I would be inflicting injury on the three
people whose names appeared on the title page of my write-in textbook. That was
how I thought I could solve my problems. And in truth, the math anxiety did go
away when I ignored the math problems and went somewhere else. Why wouldn’t I
think it was a good solution?
This
was about the same time that I was experiencing growing pains, both physical
and emotional. Not knowing how to deal with feeling left out and lonely, I
created other worlds to occupy, which I’ve talked about before. But there was
something else I did too. I imagined that there was a place somewhere where
people’s troubles and problems physically existed. There was a big building
somewhere, kept under guard obviously. And sitting on display were little
objects resembling cold remedy capsules. Each of these capsules was the
physical manifestations of an individual’s troubles. And here was the great
part: All I had to do was infiltrate that building and squash mine, and that would
end my troubles. My life would be trouble-free. That was my solution for how to
be happy.
I
don’t want to blame anyone or anything for my lack of healthy coping skills
back then. And if I could go back, I don’t think I would want to change
anything. My childhood fostered a hard-working imagination and it’s easy to
have empathy for kids today.
Of
course today I still encounter little things that trouble me. And deep down, I
hope that’s the worst that happens to me. I feel like I’ve paid my dues in the
genuine pain and disaster department and nothing catastrophic ought to ever
happen to me again. But I know the truth. Losing a daughter to cancer does not
get my ticket punched and exempt me from further tragedy.
I
think about when I was going through the toughest times of my life and I did
have good coping skills. I prayed a lot. The worse off my life was, the closer
I got to God. And now that I’m kind of coasting, my prayer life can be rather
lukewarm.
Bad
things happen to good people. While God does not stamp and OK on
those things, He never wastes a hurt. The result of something horrible
happening in my life could be that I will draw closer to Him. But I can wait
for the next thing to happen, or I can choose to draw close to Him now.
So, my coffee pot
broke last week. This was not the next tragic thing. But when I posted it on
Facebook, not only did I get an outpouring of sympathy, but three friends
offered me a coffee pot they had. This was a reminder that even when the little
things happen, people are there for me.
So something might
happen in my life. Like “The Big One”, the huge earthquake scientists predict will
hit someday, it’s not a question of if, but of when. Southern California had a few
tremblers last week and it can make me edgy. But in truth, I will never really
lose what’s important.
For I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from
his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels won’t, and all the powers of
hell itself cannot keep God’s love away. Our fears for today, our worries about
tomorrow, or where we are—high above the sky, or in the
deepest ocean—nothing will ever be able to separate us from the love of God
demonstrated by our Lord Jesus Christ when he died for us. Romans 8:38-39 (Living Bible)
Now this morning
as I drank my last cup of pour-through coffee, (my new coffee-pot arrived in
the mail Saturday)I had my cat on my lap and was feeling content. Then there
was a plop. The rubber on the bottom of my coffee cup fell in my lap. My
favorite coffee cup that holds lots of coffee and keeps it warm with a lid and
I use exclusively every morning when I write, it’s falling apart. Another little trouble to deal with. A very
little one and it’s pretty amusing that the day I get a new coffee pot, my old coffee
cup begins to self-destruct. I thank God for little reminders that nothing I
think I own will ever last. I just need to remember what is His will last
forever.
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