I know I’ve talked about this before but here I go again. I am not a patient person. At all. I wish that I could have a little more patience but I will never pray for patience. I know what happened to Job and my current frustration level with waiting is shamefully bad. I know that the quilt of my life is being sewn together at just the pace it’s supposed to be but it really doesn’t make me feel any better.
I know I’m supposed to be grateful for everything in my life. And I am. I saw a news piece about the starving children in Somalia this evening. I felt such shame for being frustrated with things in my life. One of the babies on there was bloated from starvation and taking her last breaths. Yet here I am bemoaning the fact that my life isn’t where I want it to be at this exact moment. I thanked God for the meal on my table tonight and the groceries in my kitchen. But my gratefulness for the many blessings in my life doesn’t take away the sting of the things that hurt right now.
I don’t know how to manage frustration right now. Even the little things irritate me to the tenth power. A car doesn’t move the millisecond the light turns green? Frustrated. A friend doesn’t coddle me when I am whiny? Frustrated. Someone walking down the hall in front of me isn’t walking fast enough? Frustrated. Political ads driving me and 99.9% of the American population crazy? Frustrated. Waistband of my pants rolls over and is extremely uncomfortable on a spot of my skin? Frustrated. It’s turning cold and rainy tomorrow? Frus…..trated. My life isn’t looking ANYTHING like I planned? Woooo honey. Insanely frustrated.
Worst of all, I am an over thinker and most everything anyone says to me is analyzed to death. Truly analyzed like the words were specimens from an alien spaceship and I’m the first human to observe them. I try to see things from everyone’s perspective and usually lose sight of my own because I end up putting others needs before my own. I want to be liked, loved really. Is that such a crime? It feels like one when I am wading through the words of others and trying to decipher whether or not their words were meant to be hurtful or helpful. And, naturally for me, that causes even more frustration.
I want something good to happen for me right now. But almost as immediately as I think that, I chastise myself because things are good for me right now. I am blessed beyond measure but I’ve grown so accustomed to the blessings that I have taken some of them for granted. They can be snatched from me at any time. God doesn’t guarantee these blessings for me. I get frustrated with myself for wanting more, for wanting to have the desires of my heart RIGHT NOW. So much so that I think frustration is eating me. It’s definitely eating at my sense of appreciation for the already good things. It’s eating at my joy and replacing it with emptiness. Like a caustic chemical, frustration is eating away at my self confidence and making me question decisions I have made.
It’s said that happiness comes from within. Well within me there is a battle that frustration is fighting with nuclear weapons. I think maybe I’ve brought a knife to a gunfight so to speak. I wish I could pack all the frustration in a fireworks tube and have a pyrotechnic display of every single thing that is stealing my joy. Boom!! Blast it into the atmosphere and regain some level of appreciation of the moment. It’s this faulty human heart that makes me long for something more. Something that may never come to me.
Obviously, I need to find a hobby or perhaps a tree to chop down with a dull axe. I need to channel this frustration into something more useful. Otherwise, I’m like a dog chasing it’s tail but never catching it. That’s not healthy for a human. Running in circles only leads to disorientation and perhaps that is why my heart is out of focus. Sitting around bemoaning my misery is not constructive. Good Lord, it’s pretty depressing for me and I know that it’s got to be contagious for those I’m around. Frustration IS eating me and that is pretty hard to swallow.
Messpot Diaries 