I told God this morning that He has given me too much.
That it is all just too much.
And make no mistake. This was not a prayer of praise. I was not thanking God and praising Him for the air in my lungs, the sight in my eyes, or the gifts He has given only to me. This was a prayer of pissed off and doubt.
YOU have given me too much.
As in YOU made a mistake.
YOU clearly have no idea what you are doing.
You have got the wrong person in mind for all of this stuff you have given me.
And you know what set me off into this prayer of anger?
The power went out.
As I was blow drying my hair.
Yup.
It always comes down to our hair, doesn't it ladies?
Or our thighs.
Or our husbands.
Or our children.
Or our house.
Or our crappy furniture.
Or the piles of papers to be filed.
Or the bills.
Or the calendar of appointments.
Or the kid in trouble.
Or the other kid in real trouble.
Or the loneliness.
Or the hollowness.
The emptiness.
The drowning
The draught.
The noise.
The clock.
The time.
The fear.
The hard truth you can not stand to acknowledge.
The desire to not do His will because that work is painful and the narrow gate hurts.
I sat on my floor with wet hair and said out loud to God,
"You have given me too much."
And then Jay called. From Eversource.
He called to tell me I was the only house in my area that reported an outage.
In fact, I was the only one in CT that had reported an outage.
And most likely, the only woman yelling back at an automated voice---"I am missing Mass!!!! My hair is wet!!!!" (which, FYI, the computer does not understand anything because "yes" or "no"...and takes you back to the beginning of the recording every time you yell, "Are you kidding me!???")
And could it be...that maybe...I just blew a fuse?
I assured him that every light was off and the power in the entire house was off and then I told Jay about my hair..and that I was missing Mass...and that probably, my whole life sucks now because of this.
But then I noticed.
The other lights were on.
And the digital clocks too.
I do not know for sure what happened, other than my chord was pulled, I was yanked to the floor, and I was reminded of where my true power source comes from.
And although my prayer to God was not the nicest...at least, I acknowledged Him.
Like the child who comes at the parent with complaint and argument when truthfully, the reason for their discomfort has nothing to do with the parent, but rather their own poor choice, so I come to Jesus.
I come to Him gratefully and I come to Him ungratefully, but regardless of the how, is this...I come to Him.
When I am undone, when I am buried, when I am powerless.
I turn to Him.
And he turns the power back on, just enough to get me standing, plenty to go about my day.
Maybe my problem is not about being given too much to do.
Maybe my problem is about taking on more than God asks of me.
Maybe my problem is in perfection and crossing off lists and getting everything right.
Maybe God does't expect half of what I expect of myself?
Father Dave Pivonka says, "Purgatory is full of people who did more than God asked of them."
Please Lord- open my eyes to what YOU want from me today...give me just enough...time..patience..work...keep me plugged into you, my true source of energy, the power I need.
