"There's more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!"
Yesterday was a pretty good day. A little stressy, but not too bad. I've had worse.
After work, I got to hang out with Justin my Justin and we grabbed some Taco Bell and watched "Ghost Adventures". I'm not usually one of those "Horror/Paranormal" fans, but Justin is and his enthusiasm is contagious. I just mostly like the old, creepy buildings, and making fun of the douchey host. (Kristin and Justin enjoy the latter as well.)
They went to an old psychiatric hospital and we were told stories of things that had gone on behind the closed doors of that institution for years. All three of us just sat there in stunned silence. We were all getting angry, and I felt myself getting physically ill.
I felt like one thankful little girlie after that episode was over. So what, I've been through some junk in my life. I haven't been unloved by my family or locked away in a mental institution! Bleh. I still felt sick.
After Justin left, I went to bed.
I got into bed and my mind started wandering. Why is it that shortly after you start to feel thankful, your mind starts getting attacked with a "woe is me" feeling?
It makes no sense.
Not only was it a "woe is me" it was a "you're not good enough" thing too. I started to have a MAJOR fight with myself.
"I AM TOO GOOD ENOUGH!!!"
"Then why is THIS happening/not happening?"
"Don't know, don't care. But I AM good enough. I AM worthy. So beat it."
I started praying and just telling God that I trusted Him and that I knew He was going to get be through this season.
"I know that it looks like my prayers aren't being answered, but I know that You see the bigger picture. You've got this, and I know that what I'm going through now is temporary. Amen."
I started pondering the meaning of "Amen" ("So be it.") and I started to feel better and at peace.
I drifted off to sleep and I had a bad dream. I don't remember EXACTLY what happened in it, but I remember that in the dream, my Mom's cancer had come back and my Dad was really worried. I woke up crying and I couldn't stop.
I went into "SUPER AVOIDANCE AND STEALTH CRYING MODE".
I started thinking about what would happen if her cancer DID come back. And I'm not married. And I haven't given her a grandbaby yet. And I want my kids to know their grandmother. And BLAH BLAH BLAH.
And that brought up MORE junk.
So I rolled over, pulled the covers over my already stifled head, cried and prayed some more, and then fell back to sleep.
Then Fren called:
(That's right, my ringtone is basically a giant "AMEN!". I found this ironic.)
I went into "Happy Katie Mode!" and we talked for two minutes, he had to go, I fell back asleep, he called back. (This is how it works.)
I went BACK into "Happy Katie Mode!" and I talked about some stupid something because I was trying to keep my mind off what was bothering me. I said some things I shouldn't have and then towards the end of our conversation, I remember him saying "I'm not getting onto you, I'm just sayin...". I was more upset after I got off the phone, but it wasn't at him. I was upset with me.
I always come up with dumb stuff to talk about instead of what's really on my mind because I don't want to be a bother. And then the dumb stuff ends up being worse than what's actually going on!
(I'm laughing as I type this, because it's just so ridiculous. OBVIOUSLY telling him I had a dream where my Mom's cancer came back would've been a WAY worse move than blabbing about what I blabbed about.)
Silly nighttime! This is why we're supposed to sleep at night, instead of talk. Because emotions and irrational fears run rampant after the sun goes down.
I woke up sad and Cordy needed out. Silly dog. Couldn't she see that I just couldn't emotionally deal with walking up those stairs, opening the door, attaching her to her leash, opening the SCREEN door and letting her outside? Seriously. I think my emotional needs are just a little more important than my dog's bladder.
Priorities. Katie has them.
Katie also has a low tolerance for dog whining.
(I hope you realize, dear reader, that the above paragraph is in jest. I wasn't going to deny Cordy a potty break.)
Up the stairs I went, still burritoed up in my hoodie. I took my hood off, went outside with the dog and sat down on the porch. (The hair was BEAUTIFUL, btw...)
I felt two tiny paws on my shoulder and I turned around:
So I cuddled with the cat. And Cordy. They both required leg space at the same exact time. It's a good thing I still have some lap left! NJ was pawing at one side of my face and Cordy was licking the other. Oh, what the neighbors must've thought.
Needless to say, I ended up flat on my back on the front porch, giggling and being "attacked" by the furry beasts.
Animals are awesome.
I felt better as I walked back downstairs, grabbed some clothes, and headed for the shower. My bulletin board caught my eye as I was heading to the bathroom and there it was, possibly one of my favorite quotes ever (and I'm 99.9% sure it's been on this blog before):
So be it.