I'm Not That Great

As I sat on my driveway, getting soaked by a colossal storm, I started thinking about all the things that have happened to me. And the things people have said to me. Maybe it was just my musing, maybe it was God, maybe it was the rain... but whatever it was, I 'heard' something as I sat there.


Do I have the right to say what I deserve? Can I be my own judge and jury? Do I have the wisdom to make that decision? Would I be unbiased? Do I have the experience and know-how? Who am I to have that privilege?


There are animals that act with more wisdom than I do sometimes. Ants gather food in the summer and go under ground for the winter. There's never a bird out in the rain. They are nestled in a safe, dry place well before the clouds let loose.


I cannot place myself above someone else. How can I give advice to someone? How can I give myself advice? Where have I been that gives me that right? When have I been through that experience?
How can my words save the day? They are only words. My advice doesn't do a thing without action. And my advice don't even deserve action. How dare I speak of something I know nothing about?


How can I have convinced myself that I am innocent enough to not deserve what I have gotten? Who am I to tell my friends experiences are wrong? That my knowledge is greater than theirs?


It is not my place.

God is Like Grass

I've written quite a bit about the conversations I've had with people recently. People are all pretty sure I deserve the hand that's I've been dealt. I could tell another half dozen stories about more of the same. But, there was one conversation that puts the other's to shame. It's not really even the conversation itself. But it's who was saying, and what happened during it, and after it that makes it special.


So after awhile all of these people who've had such 'good advice' have either gotten tired of me or just came to the realization that I'm right. (or maybe I'm just more stubborn than they are). Anyway, this neighbor boy who cuts lawns around the block, came walking up my driveway. I don't like this kid. He's like 12 or 13. But at the same time, I think that this kid is going to grow up to be the CEO of the biggest company ever. He has an amazing business plan. He mows like 2/3 of the lawns in my neighborhood. That's a really good amount of lawns for a 13 year old to be mowing. He got all these customers by mowing lawns of people who weren't his customers. He'd just notice somebody's yard was a little high than go mow it. NIce kid, right? NO. Then he'd tape a bill to your door! And of course no one's going to say no to a little 13 year old kid sweating like crazy, pushing a lawn mower up and down the block. So the home owner pays and says, "Thanks. But, no thanks." This kid keeps mowing. And charging. Now he says paying once constitutes a contract. Yep! This kid is going to own a nationwide lawn business.


But here he comes, walking up my driveway. And he looks pretty perturbed. I'm pretty sure I paid him, so it must be something else. He comes right up to me, and before I can even say Hello, he starts lecturing me. He's 13.


  "So I've seen your neighbors over here telling you this and that. And I've seen a lot of bad stuff happen to you. At first, I figured, they're all grown adults, they can work this out. But they obviously have no good ideas. And your situation hasn't changed either.
  I've been mowing and thinking about all of this. And now I've got to get it off of my chest. Just like when the bag on your mower gets full. Either you empty it, or it explodes everywhere. That's not pretty.
  I've got somethings to say. And I'm not going to say the same things you've been hearing. Don't interrupt me. Don't even 'think interrupt' me. Just listen, and if I'm wrong, you tell me.
  You say, "I haven't done anything wrong. I shouldn't have to go through this. Everything I touch falls apart."  And you are SO wrong. Because God is kind of like grass. If you're being a bad lawn owner, neglecting your plants, not watering, it's like if you're being a bad person. And your lawn tells you that you're doing wrong. It gets brown, bugs invade...  And you complain, "Why is my yard so ugly?"  Some people even have angels (yours truly) to tell them that their yard is in need of some help. But, if they don't listen...  There's quite a few ways to be warned. You just have to pay attention. 
  You say, "I am innocent. And I am still being punished!"  If you aren't, than who is? Everybody forgets to water their lawn now and again. And the yard shows it. Now, if you only water your lawn once a year, of course you're not going to see results. Is that your yard's fault? No. Is it God's fault you're in the mess that you're in? No. Your grass doesn't care who you are. It just grows. Whether you are the president or a homeless guy in the park. The grass under you grows. It responds to your actions as the lawn owner. You can't really say, "I just have bad grass."  How can you blame the grass? How can you blame God? God created you. He created you out of the dust off the earth - grass!
  The grass should be the one saying to you, "I just have a bad owner. That's why I'm brown in patches."  There's not much to it. You own your yard. It's your responsibility. Neglect it and the whole block gets to drive by and point out 'that guy's house'. So you might say, "Oh! I have to water! OK, I'll start doing that, I promise."  Guess what? Right now, your yard is still brown!
  My point is that you don't affect your grass. Yep. You only affect you. Your grass is going to grow. It's alive. And it's almost impossible to kill. But it'll look as ugly as Aunt Martha on December 26th. She had herself made up for Christmas, but now...
  It's just like your life. Go ahead and do lie, cheat, steal, kill, whatever. Does that affect God? Nope. God's still doing his thing. But it comes back to you. Be the best lawn owner ever. Still, does your grass care. Nope. It looks good on you though. The grass hasn't done anything different. It's just trying to grow.
  You may look up to the sky and say, "God, if you water my lawn, I'll get my act together!" **Ironically, as this boy said this, he threw is arms in the air. This obviously caused me to look up into the sky. And as he said this, black clouds start rolling over the horizon. Creepy kid.**
  "You think God's going to listen to that, when you've told him the same story, how many times? And then you say, "Fine God, if you don't, then I'm going to go tell everybody its your fault that my lawn is patchy!"  OK. That's definitely going to work. Your grass reflects on you. Not God, or even itself.
  Your grass dares you to take care of it. Watch how thick it will get. Look at the rich color. Don't let anybody sell you any miracle chemical for your yard. As soon as you stop buying that stuff your lawn goes back to being brown. It only thrives when it gets the real thing - your investment. 
  Look at the sky! Look at how dark it's getting! How does God organize it to storm on us? Was this mass of clouds somewhere else before? Did they all converge here, just for us? Did they only just form over us, and will they dissipate when they're done?
  Hear that thunder? It's like the clouds are stampeding over they horizon towards us, and the thunder is the sound of hooves! Look at the lightning! How does it choose which tree to hit? How hard will it strike? Quick! Start counting. How long until the thunder? How close is it? Is the thunder God's voice, rumbling out a warning of the storm? Is it a command to the storm? "Do not rain until you see the whites of their eyes!", "Let it all out! Don't hold back a drop!"
  When the water falls, everything stops. It's only water, but everyone outside, runs back inside. People inside stare out their windows, stunned by the majestic downpour. When God organizes a tornado, people all quiver! They run to the shelters!
  What keeps the clouds from falling? When will the bottom fall out of it and the gallons and gallons of water come down? Who is safe? What is safe...?
 My lawnmower sure isn't! I've got to get it inside! Bye!


I watch the boy run his red lawnmower down the sidewalk toward his house. I look the opposite way and see the dark clouds nearly covering me. And they're chasing the boy home.
Then it happens. The boy said it would. The bottom dropped out. I just lower myself to sit on the driveway. My clothes are immediately soaked and clinging to my skin. And the warm afternoon breeze is now freezing.
Do I dare demand an answer from God right now? "Why?" doesn't seem like an appropriate topic, as God drops a fury of rain onto me. Instead, maybe I'll take a look at my yard.

I'm Done With This - It's Over!

Dear Life (you know who you are),

   You have broken me. Yep, I'm done. I'm putting an end to it. The grave has been dug.

   I am everybody's punch-line - because of you! I have to listen to them, and look them in the eye everyday. Is this my fault? No. It's you. My reputation is shot. No one understands that I'm not the problem. You are. It's like my name is a synonym for gullible.

   I am physically ill because of you! Yep, you and the stress you've brought me have made me just a shadow of what I used to be.

   People that I respect (and who used to respect me), are now turning their backs and talking about me. Thanks. Once again, you do the deed and I take the fall. Has no one else made a mistake??

   So, we're through. No more. Our days are over. Our plans are wasted. Our dreams are jokes.

   Some people in my situation might say, "Oh, you just need to ride it out. Work the kinks out. The cloud has a silver lining."  Baloney, I say. I glad this is over. It's dead and buried. Which is right where it belongs.

   There is no hope.

   No light.

   I think I've been buried with it.

Sincerely,

My Friend is a Jerkhole

 Here comes my stupid neighbor again. He finds it necessary to 'help' me all the time now. I think its him that needs to be helped. I think a smack to the head would be a good start. I've  heard all his anecdotes a thousand times. I wish I had a big wad of nasty gym socks to shove in his pie-hole!

"Hey neighbor! I was thinking about you the other day, and I think have a solution to your little problem. I wouldn't come over if I didn't know I was on to something good!"

     If I was in this guys shoes... Oh the things I would tell him. Too bad I'd probably run out of breath before I got even half-way through.

"Oh neighbor! I know that look! You can't escape this conversation. Your face gave you away! You have even started muttering to yourself."

     Funny how I get these nervous twitches when he comes around... If I keep muttering, will he take a hint and go away? Doubt it. Oh God, please let this guy get a phone call... OR his mailbox run-over... anything to get him off my back! I've had enough.

"I was thinking, why wouldn't you be so unlucky? What makes you so deserving of good fortune?"

     Yeah. My children die, my land is repossessed, my health is pitiful... why wouldn't all that just happen upon me? It's actually kind of offensive he would even suggest that.

"Like, how would you know that God had a good plan for you? Maybe it's a bad one. You wouldn't know. You're not part of God's 'planning team'. Really, none of us are. What does you know that I don't?"

     Let's see. I don't think God would KILL someone's CHILDREN! I was doing just fine, and then all of a sudden - BOOM!!! (So I'm not going to re-live all the things I've been through, but if you read my first couple posts, you'll pretty much realize that I have a right to be this infuriated.) I feel like a QB who just gets blitzed every play. And not just blitzed, sacked.

"I was talking to your dad yesterday, and we were thinking, why aren't you just clinging to what God says about going through hard times? Don't those calm your nerves?"

     Hmm... What's God say about ulcers? Oh yeah! When you don't have skin, it's a little hard to hold a book! And, NO, I have found anything comforting. I stay awake all night thinking about all the precious things I used to have, and are just gone. My face is red, there are rings under my eyes, but I still scrape up a little hope everyday.

"You shouldn't get carried away in your emotions. Getting mad won't solve your problems. You've probably done something really bad to be deserving all this. What goes around comes around, they say. Maybe you should make it right. Like that TV show."

     Oh, if I thought that was the issue, I'm pretty sure I'd have already done that!

"Listen, so this guy, I think is name is Elroy... no, Leroy... no, Ernie..."

     His name is Earl. The TV show is called, 'My Name is Earl'. Gosh!

"It doesn't matter. So he buys a lotto ticket, and it turns out to be the winner of the mega-jackpot-super-ultra-ball! So he runs across the street to redeem it, and gets it by a car! The ticket flies across the street and into a storm drain or something. Anyway its gone, and Ernie is left wandering, 'Why'd this happen?' He decides is must be karma getting him back for all the bad things he's done."

     ...Earl... And what does a lotto ticket have to do with me?

"I'm not done yet. Then Elroy's wife leaves him. And he gets evicted. And he loses his job. All sorts of stuff."

     E-A-R-L!!! And this isn't even a real story!

"I saw it on TV. If it wasn't true they wouldn't air it. They're not allowed. The FCC or something... But he makes this list of everybody he's done something wrong to, and starts reversing those things!"

    Mhm... and how many things has he reversed?

"Umm... I think 300 and some"

     OK... and where does he live?

"In a motel room with his brother."

     And does he have a job?

"No. But he helps a lot of people."

     And did he get his wife back?

"No. But he is really good friends with her new husband!"

    OK. I'm gonna walk away now. See you later, Eli. I think I've got a better chance with God...

You think you're better than me...?

  Everybody thinks they're so smart. I'm no idiot either. Don't be so high and mighty. All these things you tell me to do, don't you think I've thought of them?
  Everyone laughs at me because of circumstances I can't control. It's not my fault they're happening. But everybody thinks they can tell me how to fix it. It must be easy for people living on top to tell everyone living below that they're wrong. These people don't even know why their lives are so dandy. So they need to shutup!
  Do you know you does appreciate where their security comes from? The animals, the birds and such. Everyday they wake up, and before they do anything the birds are chirping and singing. I like to think they're thanking God that their nests are still in the trees, their little eggs are one day closer to hatching, and now they can gather all the worms and other stuff birds eat. But they know they didn't do anything to deserve that. And they don't come tell me, "If you did this and that, you wouldn't be having these problems."  
  How do you know what is best for me, when you've never been where I am? You're not me. Never will be. If I wanted help, I'd ask somebody that has gone through it. They would know what I'm feeling, and how to deal with it. But I think I might just take my lesson from the birds. If he bothers to take such great care of such tiny critters like them, I think he'd take care of me.
  Then you'd look pretty stupid, huh? All this stuff you tell me is worthless. The doctors, the lawyers, the debt counselors, you... all say the same thing. You're no better than I am. Don't tell me that you are,or that it's all my fault. You should do yourself a favor and keep quiet before you find your foot in your mouth.
  Are you really going to tell me that your way is the only way to help me? How would you know? What if the tables were turned? Would you give yourself the same advice? I bet you wouldn't survive half of what I've been through. Your little quotes and sayings, are stupid and don't work. If I listened to you, I'd probably be dead. But I know who to trust.
  You tell me I'm wrong, but you can't tell me WHAT I've done wrong. The things I've done wrong are for God to judge.
  I've got two requests for God. A) Reverse all these problems I'm going through. B) Stop the threats of more problems. I don't deserve this, I'm a good person. If I ahve sinned show them to me.
  Why are all thing s piling up on me? I have enough problems. And yet, more and more come. I'm just one person. I was born and I'll live like 70-80 years and then die. Why do those years have to be filled with so much stress? Am I being picked on? I'm only going to live so long. Can I please be left alone until my time is up?
  Even trees have it better than I do. If someone cuts down a tree, the stump will sprout again. If the stump dies, and the roots rot, there are still seeds it left that will grow into a forest. But I have no such luck. When I'm gone, there's no coming back. The only benefit is that after I die, I won't have to worry about anything! Ha!
  If I die, can I live again. Not on earth, for sure. God, if you will call me when I'm in the grave, I will pick up the phone! I think you would want this marvelous creature you've created. Then, the things I've done wrong won't matter any more. They'll be hidden, and no one will find them because God will have hidden them. Just like when I was little and my mom used to hide things on top the refrigerator!
  When I'm gone, life will go on on earth. People will get promotions, people will be born, get sick, sleep, move, and die. And I will be totally oblivious to it all!

An email From Mr. Z

I'm just gonna copy/paste this in here...

Dear Job,

  I've heard of your circumstance, and thought I could offer some 'constructive critism'. 

  Has nobody called you out on these things you're saying? Has no one really thought to contradict you on your unwillingness to live?? I hear you saying, "I am perfect. I have not sinned." I am highly doubtful that God would agree with you there. I'm sure he'd have more to say on the subject. There are two sides to every story. Don't forget that we have all sinned. I think I've sinned so much, that God may have forgotten some - simply out of the quantity.

  Do you KNOW what God had planned for you? No. Can you tell where he draws the line? No. The line may be deep in the ocean, or way up in the stratosphere. You may not be able to even go where he says is 'enough'. If he finds you guilty of sin, justifying all your problems, can you tell him he's wrong? No. What goes around comes around. Haven't you seen a person get what's coming to them?

  Maybe you have sinned. But that's between you and God. If you have, you need to A) Stop. B) Get rid of the desire to do that. C) Ask God to forgive you, and pardon your punishment. Then you will be free of this. You won't have to worry all the time.

  I know because it happened to me. When I did that, it was like God was taking care of my problems for me. No matter what happened, I knew he would see me through until it was resolved. I felt safe. 

  Take care, Mr. Z

My Pity Party

So my life blows. And I need to vent.

I want God to tell me what I've done wrong. What have I done wrong that would justify my children being crushed in a building? to have my property stolen? to be sick all the time, with boils and ulcers? What did I do?

Maybe it just makes Him happy to watch me suffer. Meanwhile, there's serial-rapists and axe-murderers out doing just fine. Couldn't He give them a few of my problems?

People are always quick to point out my faults - to judge. But God is GOD. Shouldn't He be looking at my heart? He should know my heart is innocent. He made me. And now it's like He wants me dead. (sounds like what my mother used to say, "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!")

I always thought God to be on my side - working for my good and all. But it seems He's just been waiting for me to screw up. I would love to know what I did to deserve this punishment. If I was guilty, I would accept my sentence! I am ashamed of the things I do wrong. I know that 'pride comes before a fall'. But what did I do?

Every day, there is something new to oppress me. Last week, I got an ulcer; yesterday, my insurance says they won't be covering doctor bills (cause its 'experimental' ...ok). Today, my credit card gets denied. Tomorrow... I can only imagine!

If this is what my life is supposed to be, then why was I even born? Why did I even get that first gulp of oxygen? And how many of those gulps do I have left? I think I could count them on my hands. I wish I could feel better, get healthy, for just a day. Just one day before its over.

They say people see a bright light as they get closer to the end...

What if that light is kind of dim and flickering?