Body Blows and Wintergreen Pep-O-Mint Candies

This has been a tough week for me.  As the details of most of it aren’t mine to share (and because the details don’t really MATTER), I won’t get into specifics, but it was just one of those weeks.  You’re going along, all happy and content and thinking things are humming along pretty darn well when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, life smacks you upside the head.  You stagger, but you recover and you think, “Wow, that sucked …” and then while you’re still shaking that off, something else comes along and knocks you to your knees.  And then, while you’re still struggling to get back to your feet, something else comes along and kicks you in the teeth. 

And it goes on and on and on.

After a while, you get almost afraid to answer the phone, or the door, or check the mail because you don’t think you can handle another punch to your security.

Yet still the trials come.  After a while, they don’t even have to be “trials”.  It may be something that any other time might just be a nuisance or an irritation, but when you’re already on the floor, bleeding from the blows, it doesn’t take much for an irritation to become a major head shot.

That’s how my week was.  It seemed that the more I tried to fix things, the worse I made things.  I said and did the wrong things; I said too much when I should have kept quiet, I was quiet when I needed to speak.   I was so totally in over my head in dealing with situations that I never saw coming, situations that I was totally unprepared to deal with.

I was up at church on Wednesday and someone I know saw me in the ladies room.  I had been crying.  She asked me if I was OK and I said I was feeling overwhelmed.  She took that moment to put on her Sanctimonious Scarf and tell me that I just needed to pray more and trust God.  Then she started quoting song lyrics to me about “trusting Him in the storm” and telling me that my faith would get me through.

Wow.

Don’t get me wrong, my faith is bedrock strong and I am secure in my position as a Daughter of the King.  When crisis hits, the first thing I do is turn to prayer.  I do trust Him, and I know He’s got everything under control.  But that doesn’t stop me from, now, at this moment, being scared.  And lonely.  And overwhelmed.  And honestly, being told that my doubts and fears and concerns are because I’m not a good enough Christian, that my faith is shaky and that if I really believed in the Bible, I’d not be scared … um, no.  Sorry.  Quoting song lyrics to someone who is literally weeping in the ladies room probably isn’t going to do the trick.  Just FYI.

Sunday, in service, I had on my Happy Face; the “Look, everything is perfect in my world, can’t you tell?” persona that I tend to wear when I’m in church (because I want to be seen as a “good Christian” and a “good Christian” never has doubts or fears or concerns or worries, never cries and never shakes her fist at God and never questions Him, right?) but inside, I was a mess.  I stood in His Holy House, in the presence of God Himself and I didn’t feel a thing except scared.  And lonely.  And confused.  And angry.  And worried.

Then the worship leader said (and I paraphrase) “You may be feeling wonderful this morning, you may be happy and excited to be here and you may be filled with joy.  But someone next to you is scared.  And lonely.  And confused.  And angry.  And worried.”  I felt the tears well up, so I covered by rummaging in my purse for a piece of hard candy.  (A Wintergreen Pep-O-Mint always helps.) 

The worship leader continued.

“Some of you may be feeling that God is silent, or that He isn’t listening, or that He has left you.  If you’re one of those people who are, right now, in a good place and everything is going well and you’re feeling secure and confident in life, that’s wonderful, but be aware that the person sitting right next to you might not be.  They may be wondering where God is, and wondering if He hears them.  They may be feeling overwhelmed and lonely.”

I swear, if at that moment, Rick had said, “If you’re one of those people, please raise your hand so that we can hug your neck and pray with you”, I’d have raised my hand.  And folks, I was brought up Lutheran.  We do *NOT* raise our hands in church.  Ever.  And I certainly don’t draw attention to myself in church.  But at that moment, I would have.

We left after church, didn’t stay for Sunday School.  We used the excuse that we had to get home because my inlaws were coming over for a Father’s Day lunch, but that was just an excuse.  I just didn’t want to be around people because I was feeling so vulnerable and I knew I was one hug, or one concerned “How are you?” away from a crying jag and I don’t have time for that.

So that’s where I am today.  And that’s probably where I’m going to be for the next few days.  I am hanging on by my fingernails.  I don’t know that I can take one more thing … I’m fighting with everything I’ve got to deal with the things this past week has dumped on my plate.

I am feeling overwhelmed.  And scared.  And I am worried.  But I am NOT doubting God.  I am NOT weak in my faith, nor do I need Scripture or song lyrics or platitudes quoted to me.  Being scared, being overwhelmed, feeling like you’re barely hanging on is NOT a reflection of my spiritual health.  Life is hard.  Life is VERY hard.  Sometimes, it flat out sucks.  But that’s OK, too.  You always need Jesus.  But that doesn’t mean you don’t also need friends, a good crying jag and a big bag of Wintergreen Pep-O-Mints.

I have no doubt that this next week will have me making more mistakes.  I will say and do the wrong thing.  I will yell when I should hug, I will hug when I should back away.  I will over-compensate and I will hover, and then I will realize what I’m doing and I’ll back off too much.  I will over-explain and I will be silent when I should speak.  But I will also be praying.  I’ll be reading my Bible and I will be asking God for guidance.  And I will *REFUSE* to accept that my being afraid / scared / worried is because I’m a “bad Christian” or is a reflection of a lack of trust in God, or is proof that I don’t love God. 

When all this is over, I will sigh a deep sigh of relief, and I will be thankful to Him for getting me through this series of storms.  I won’t, however, feel guilty about being scared spitless while I’m in the midst of the storm.

So if you see me this next week (real life, or on Facebook, or whatever), understand why I may not meet your gaze, or why I may suddenly duck into the ladies room.  I may not be responding to texts and emails, and I may not be feeling very social.  But I will.  Eventually.  God will get me through this.  Of that, I am certain.

And if you see me suddenly rummage in my purse for a Wintergreen Pep-O-Mint, I probably wouldn’t hate it if you offered me a hug. 

And you know what?  If you’re feeling like I am, feel free to ask me for a Wintergreen Pep-O-Mint.  They come with hugs and understanding.  And I won’t quote song lyrics to you.  Promise.