Nearer My God to Thee and Cleaning Ovens

I have to say, I have not been a very good God steward this summer. For those who don’t believe, say your, “Pff,” now and read on, or not.
You might want to read on though because my God is very interesting, and can be entertaining. He can also leave me alone to flounder, sometimes … like this summer.
Or maybe, if truth be told, he didn’t leave me alone.
I left Him. Not let, left, but put other things before Him.
This is the door to me. The one that believes, yet questions … not so much God, but the mankind he created. Good Helena, I am not so sure the word “kind” necessarily goes with the word, “man.”
Nevertheless, what brought me to spill the tea leaves is that today, I am finally feeling like I am not in phlegm or muscle pain brain.
And, I had my Pandora on while cooking around with taking a few photos, and there it was, “Nearer My God to Thee,” Which took me first to the Titanic, and then to God.
I picture those musicians standing on the deck of the Titanic, playing their instruments, as the ship slipped inch by inch, into the frigid waters of the iceberg scattered water.
Can you imagine what went through their minds as they played and played, watching men and women wait for death, as they awaited their own death?
I wonder, would I have panicked? Would I have done what Gorge Constanza would have done … climb on women’s shoulders to save himself? Would I have bargained to God, like I have done so many times in my life? Would my life have flashed before my eyes? Would I have stayed with Nick and gone into the afterlife with Nick? Would I have looked at the good I had done in life or would I have focused on all that I have done wrong, which is plenty.
When whatever hit me this summer, a nasty virus in my leg muscles and then a cold, I didn’t pray to God. I just thought, oh crap.
This isn’t about the crud I had, but how I dealt with it. I withdrew a bit. Hunkered down. I watched TV. French, Italian, British … movies spoken in a different language, and subtitles.
Chipper moi wasn’t so chipper. Having the crud does that.
I always feel like writing, but even that desire was less than just trying to feel better.
It is as though sometimes my body attacks itself. I have a funky immune system. It started with mono in high school and has made itself known through different variations of things throughout the years.
But that isn’t the point, either. Everyone has their “things.”
How we deal with them? Ah … there is the rub.
And this time, I didn’t look at life through God’s eyes, or ask for His guidance to help me figure it out. I just turned into toad.
It was more difficult because of a couple of things. One is that we were in between doctors. The other is that because of our high-deductible insurance, I didn’t want to go even if we had a doctor.
I think my “fever” broke, so to speak, yesterday, after I spent a few minutes being hateful.
Yes, hateful.
One of my daughters caught me. She called and asked what we were doing. I laughed and said, “Being hateful.”
I don’t think I have ever said that.
But I was so angry at a doctor bill I got, and the last 6-months of dealing with the Unaffordable Care Act and the turmoil it is causing to our finances.
This bill was for $655.00. It was for a 15 minute appointment. Yes, there was an x-ray and a shot, but still.
I spit so many nails I am sure I could have attached drywall to a whole new house.
I didn’t turn to God and pray for strength or a windfall or anything. I vented my wrath.
The difference is, after venting my wrath, I still didn’t feel better. I actually felt like an ou of control asshat.
So, again, instead of praying for guidance, I did what everyone else does in such circumstances.
I cleaned my stove and over.
There is something in me that wants to keep our stove and over looking new. So that is where I worked out hostility … scrubbing.
The stove looked magnificent.
But I still felt yuck.
Anger doesn’t feel good.
This morning, I called the doctor’s office and told them that I thought the bill was really too much for the service that was rendered. I was very nice. Very rarely do I shoot a messenger.
My cold doesn’t have me in its grip today. The virus in my leg muscles is easing up, as I suspected it would do.
The world is still a cockamamie mess, and natural disasters are wreaking havoc on Italy. Mankind still gives me the vapors. But God is back in my life, after a brief time-out.
There are so many things in life we can’t change … one is history. No matter how many times we watch the movie, “Titanic,” it still sinks. I will still have my arguments with whatever powers that be. Some days I will see beyond my nose.
And some days, I won’t.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Brenda Schmidt says:

    Feel the say way. Subbed my nose at God so many times but then I realized that doesn’t work so with faith and prayer first then tackle the issues.


  2. Brenda Schmidt says:

    Feel the say way. Subbed my nose at God so many times but then I realized that doesn’t work so with faith and prayer first then tackle the issues. Yes the world is in a mess all I can say is God help us


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