Read the title statement. Raise a hand (okay, or just nod, very slightly, so that your office mates don’t notice) if you’ve also come to this conclusion in life. I know it’s not just me. It was even discussed slightly among #cathsorority members this week.
It’s been a week, certainly. Well, part of a week, seeing as how it’s only Wednesday. There have been stressful situations, long days, lazy dinners, and I haven’t baked anything. (That is why my stress level is high. I need to spend some quality time in the kitchen tonight. After I run like crazy at the gym.) I know that I’m not the only one dealing because, let’s face it, we’re all dealing with something. That said…
I found myself dealing with something yesterday and I just didn’t know what do with it. Like you’ve been given a 7-sided box, and you know it’s not going to be that effective for packing, and it’s not quite a soccer ball, and it’s not a buckyball or you’d be off making incredible things in the lab, it’s just a… 7-sided box. So you toss it around a little, examine it from every angle, and discover 10 minutes later that all you really know is that is still a 7-sided box. Yes? You’ve had that experience too?! Oh, good.
So I was at my conveniently-timed-on-a-crazy-day holy hour trying to examine the 7-sided box again and still getting as far as “it’s not quite eight-sided” which of course leads to “Wow Marie, you’re approximately 50 shades of brilliant”.
At which point I said/journaled “God, shed new light on all the situations in my life, and give me the humility to see them as no bigger and no smaller than what they truly are.” Humility probably isn’t my strong suit. And… 30 seconds later, I’m crying. Real, salty tears. I don’t know why I was crying, other than maybe after a while you just say “it’s a 7-sided box and that’s all it really needs to be” and the cessation of the endless questioning is a weight off one’s shoulders. Perhaps that’s it. All I know is:
1.) I am not a cryer. I dislike crying. In fact, I dislike emotions in general. (Working on it, maybe).
2.) Here I was, crying, in the Adoration chapel.
3.) I think I was supposed to.
30-second turnaround last night. How about that. Leading to my conclusion… prayers for humility always work. (See also anecdotal evidence A: spilling coffee over myself earlier this week on the way to work when mentally berating how hot it was outside. Note- hot coffee on you makes it hotter. Be grateful you have clothes to wear. K, noted.) So hey! Prayer life feeling a little stunted? A bit of that “pretty sure God isn’t listening to me” feeling coming out? Try it. Ask for the gift of humility, and willing accept whatever’s thrown at you – be it hot coffee, a 96 degree day, crying in public, or who knows what. I can tell you, at least from my perspective, it works.