Why do I doubt? Why do I waste God’s time with my pathetic whining? As if he’s not going to get things taken care of…as if he’s not already ON IT, thank you very much.
Sometimes, when I’m at that point with things, God sends angels. They might work in the background, and suddenly things are all better, or they might be the here-we-are variety. Then, other times, God just sends ordinary people, although I have a hard time calling them “ordinary” with the awesome relief they provide to me.
Yesterday I got Angel Friends Therapy. No sooner were the ungrateful and highly doubt-filled words out of my mouth than I received an email from a friend, offering to take Toddler-tron for the afternoon. Ah! I can work on those projects I forgot to bring home with me! Thanks, God!
Then, after only an hour or two in the office, another email arrived, from Grandma Glory, who is being denied her Friday with Toddler-tron due to me taking off on a mental health day to visit my own grandma. Since she’s not doing service by watching TT, she offered her help in the office. At that point, I had to just stop and really tell God THANKS. I had to examine myself in the mental mirror that had been getting fogged up from all the panting and sweating of my neurons, as they struggled to carry the heavy burden of thought.
In that mirror, once I wiped it off, and then of course I had to swish it and swipe it (Flylady, how did you get in my MIND?!?), I saw someone with bags under their eyes and tears in their eyes. I saw a haggard rendition of myself, and it made me sad (and mad!) that I waited that long before asking for help. The help was always there. God would have dispatched these angel friends at any instant; all I had to do was get out of the way and let him do his job. Often, he does “impose” on me with blessings of all sorts, but I can’t help but wonder…just how much am I turning away through my stubborn refusal to get out of the way?
I need the humility and grace to let God run my life. And how, asks I, do I go about getting that? The small voice insists that the answer lies in those moments of prayer, calm and composed in the wee morning hours, snatched in pieces throughout the busy day, lulling me to sleep as I tuck in for the night. The answer lies in God. Why would I look anywhere else?