You know you said "box of chocolates" in a weird southern accent! Don't lie! My favorites are the cherry filled kind. Or the ones with oozing dark chocolate that you have to slurp. The carmel filled kind are mid-tier. But I hate the coconut ones and always put them back half eaten--not worthy of a trip to the garbage can. That trash is disgusting.
I desperately want to believe God doesn't dole out coconut chocolates when he's disappointed with me. Yes, I know I know I know! He doesn't work on tit-for-tat, you scratch my back I'll scratch yours basis. But when those coconut chocolates start rolling in by the truckload, that evil voice starts spouting, "Well, remember that time you did that thing you shouldn't have? What goes around comes around, honey!"
Let's just say we're in the Valley of Mounds with Almonds right now. Every day we are showered with our manna of chocolate covered coconut flakes and it just stinks. Since going back home we moved in with family, originally by choice but now out of necessity (more on how that happened later). Coordinating life with two adults and two itty bitty babies is confusing and challenging enough without adding doting grandrents and an unhealthy lump of guilt into the daily routine.
It could always be worse. We could have a life-threatening disease. Or be stranded in eel infested waters near the Cliffs of Insanity. But that kitchy silence filler never really comforted anyone. Tell somebody with Stage III cancer that they should be glad it isn't Stage IV. Oh I feel much better! Thank you!
Since suffering is relative, it's very believable that Hot Tamale's time out sentence is as traumatic for her as infertility is to a young couple. So my big battle right now is accepting that God wants more for me than a comfortable, house-wife with picket fence existence. It's pretty lame when I write it down since "it could always be MUCH worse." But I wrestle with so many parts of being an extended guest in someone else's house. Trying to keep it clean. Hiding my milk-making boobs. Finding storage for the kid crap. Maintaining a healthy relationship with Hubs. Truly loving people who are very different from me.
He has work to do through me living with my in-laws. That's clear. And he'll keep me here until that work is done. I get it! He cares far more for my soul than to leave it untested. If I can't be faithful with this tiny trial, what about when the levies really break? Just for the record: God, if you'd rather send me suffering to a beach hut in Costa Rica, I'll leave it all (the bouncy seat and everything) right now. We're talking Friday, May 21 1:45pm! Until then, I'll let you teach me how to love chocolate coconuts...
No comments:
Post a Comment