Ms. Grumpypants

I feel grumpy today. I will now identify the possible reasons why.

I woke up with a thick feeling in my throat. I don't do sick well. It's overcast and raining. My toddler is grumpy and her coughing and sneezing seems worse. I have a long list of domestic duties facing me today. How boring is that. Not only boring, but some of them I hate. Not dislike. Hate. I don't like spending any time of my days doing things I hate, especially since there are also many things I must do each day that I also dislike. So I procrastinate. This makes me feel worse, as guilt kicks in. I don't like being manipulated, which guilt does, so I push back. This can be translated as “digging my heels in and affirming my right to hate and love certain things, this is me, take it or leave it.” That kind of thinking then leads to questioning life decisions I've made. Which leads to worse thoughts. Now what do I do?

I can pep talk myself and perhaps count my blessings. I can practice thankfulness for the 1000 things that I have been blessed with. I can smack a smiley face on (science says this makes you feel better). I can stuff my feelings. I can deny the passionate me that feels at a million decibles. I am sorry, but that just would not be authentic. I don't do fake. My heart and mind need to operate on the same playing field or we are going to have a problem... something like an underground volcano in New York.

I am, what God made me. How do I navigate life according to the Spirit, being such a feeler? It has felt like a curse, at times. Like a bad joke. Yet I believe. In God's goodness, in what Jesus preached. Basically, I have learned a lot about grace. And mercy. Not as a license to sin, but as a loving gift from a loving heavenly Father who sees the big picture of me at all times. That Ming vase was once a slimy lump of clay, but the potter didn't throw it away, because He sees the vessel He is creating.

The lump of clay observes that life on the spinning wheel can be boring. It observes that the firing furnace is not fun (“I am thankful that it's not freezing in the furnace”. Really? Pfft.). But.

At the worst of times, I can say, that calling His name has been the difference. His strength. Not mine. My strength is s**t, really. That's what I mean by grace and mercy. Grace, He loves me and hears me and answers me, despite me. Mercy, I am still here. Still a believer. Because of what He has done for me.

I will now continue on with my crappy day.

Best,

M