I know the following letter is rather lengthy and rehashes some old news briefly, but I felt led to write this and pray that anyone else that needs to read this, does.
Climbing Out Of The Crock-Pot: A Lesson in Changing My Perspective to Truly See God’s Hand
Last week, I had a bit of a fit. As a rule, I try not to have many fits as they’re not worth the trouble and the emotional output. Sometimes, however, my flesh justifies the exertion.
With that in mind, I have to tell you that, generally, when I have a fit, I don’t scream and yell or have a tantrum. That only negatively compounds the already seething boiler of emotions that constituted the fit in the first place. My fits are quiet, tense and rather angst-filled (sans melodrama); I brood, I sulk, I withdraw (let’s call it The Crock-Pot fit). The problem with this sort of fit is that it can drag on for hours, or even days and that is exhausting for not only me, but my roommates and my family.
(By my own admission, throughout my life, I have had tantrums … and recently. The problem with brooding, sulking and withdrawing is that all that emtional ‘output’ is sealed up. Then, the obsessing begins, lasting, sometimes, for days or even weeks, and my mind starts turning over all these worst-case scenarios and imaginary confrontations. Before long, I’m so angry and offended by an argument that never took place that the crock-pot turns into a pressure-cooker. If that makes you think less of me, I don’t know what I can say to change the truth of the matter. Thankfully, they are very rare – very, very rare – primarily because, afterward, I hate myself for such outbursts.)
In the weeks and months following my most recent tantrum, I have learned to simply ask for prayer and stuff my head in the Bible (more importantly, stuffing the Bible in my head) for the duration of the fit, to subvert any stewing. This doesn’t make the problem magically disappear, but there is a grace for every temptation, every trial, and His grace is sufficient for me. Frankly, there are times when I need a lot of grace, especially when I’m acting foolishly (far too often).
It is my self-proven method of conflict resolution with both external and internal applications. I asked for prayer; I prayed; I wept; I read my Bible; I vented some; I sought counsel; I threw a pity-party.
Everyone I could reach received a prayer request. Some people were fortunate enough (heh) to get that, venting and a plea for help.
Then I received the following note in my inbox:
“You go for it Roxy, when the King gives His orders should we be discussing whether or not we want to obey? Or do we just obey?”
This was surely meant (and taken) as encouragement. Even so, it had a bit of a steel toe on it, too, and gave me a swift kick. I’ve never been in a crock-pot from which a timely and well-placed boot couldn’t release me. Sometimes God uses a friend to administer the thwacking that one so desperately needs, and other times God does it himself with a firm hand and an old-fashioned chastening. In my life, the former is almost always harder to take(for I expect God to get firm with me, but not always a friend), but often blesses far more deeply. (It’s always God who truly does the working and the waking, He just finds the source that will give it the proper punch.)
It was after this ‘spirituality check’ that I took a little time to take stock of what God has done in my life – especially in the last six months, and being the start of a new year, this all feels very timely, indeed.
Six months ago, my cousin and her husband had just moved into a nice home in Greenwood, Louisiana and were graciously continuing to give me room and board. At this time, in particular, they were back home in Kansas City to see family and my father, whom I had not seen in a few months, was visiting. He had brought down one of my dogs, Fredrick, a Gordon Setter mix dog of two-and-a-half years whom I had missed dearly. Everything looked like it was going well for me or, at the very least, looking up. In reality, however, it was a time of great resentment, unfulfillment and dissatisfaction.
Just two years before, in July of 2008, I was living in Gladstone, Missouri with my two dogs, in a home that I was in the process of owning along with the acre of land around it, working as a Production Analyst/Lead for a large printing company, making just shy of $50,000 annually. At church, I went to all the services I could and was leading the morning congregational songs. Those felt like good days. Then, in September of that year, we were informed of the company’s intentions to phase out our entire department. If my memory is right, 48 people (including my own father) lost their jobs over the proceeding five months. Losing my job translated in the long-term to pulling up stakes to move to Shreveport, Louisiana to live with my cousin and her family in their three-bedroom apartment and almost losing my home to foreclosure. The Lord always provides, though, and led me to a new church and a new job within six months.
Regardless, by this past July, the ups-and-downs of the past year had just about done me in. The new job had well lost its sheen and new-car smell; the lack of solitude at home was a detriment to my attitude and, spiritually, I was so starved for real meat from the pulpit that I quit attending altogether with intentions to get preaching from recordings from my home church and from a weekly Veterans’ Home church service that dear friends conduct on Sunday afternoons in Bossier City. Nothing was the way I thought it should be, and that’s when the resentment settled-in.
My resentment was never so much aimed at one person as much as it was a general resentment of my circumstance, but different people can and did wander into the crosshairs. Most of it is seated in the fact that I live states away from my family and other friends and have only a handful of vacation days to see them. Then, I was often made to feel guilty for wanting to take them all at once to get in a decent visit and was often fed a line about being more concerned about the job than about my personal time. In direct contrast, my roommates seem to be able to just take two weeks, or a month here and there and not have to worry about anything and blah, blah, blah. (That’s not an entirely true assessment of them, but when you’re having a pity-party the party next door always seems to have better food.) At the end of the day I was mad at my boss, mad at my roommates, mad at me for being a glorified bum, mad that I can’t just let someone else be happy, and just plain mad, mad, mad (and immature).
This all came to a very real and serious head in early August; the biggest, angriest and most far reaching Pressure-Cooker fit I could remember. When the dust settled, I was faced with a decision. I could either walk the walk and step away from my job which spelled, ultimately, returning to Kansas City to start over, or to put up with all the immaturity, nonsense and noise, look at the big picture and have a little grace to make the best of my less-than-fulfilling situation.
I chose the second option, and I have worked every day to make good on it, as well. Once my focus shifts and I’m looking for the blessings, I realize all the things that God has done that I take for granted everyday.
Since making that decision, I made another decision: to get right with the Lord. I never really considered the prospect that I wasn’t right until the Spring of this year, and instead of correcting the problem then, I kind of huddled around my sin and eked what I could out of it, knowing that it would have to go eventually (again, I confess my foolishness and immaturity). Through everything, my relationship with Jesus Christ should have gotten stronger, but I had quenched it and replaced it with the world. It was high-time to make amends and seek restoration.
In August, after attending almost every service for a few weeks, I joined Shreveport Baptist Temple, finally finding a church home here amongst kindred spirits, where God’s hand is visible and my spirit is fed. My 26th birthday was September 12 and on that day, I re-dedicated my life to Christ and whatever His will proved to be. Here, I’ve made good friends, been allowed to return to ministry and have had more opportunities for new involvement than I ever thought possible. Of course, I still have bad days and I still manage to climb into the crock-pot once in awhile, but I can see the changes God is making in my life, my attitude and my convictions.
What’s more amazing to me at this time is to see how God used all the “bad” times to bring about the good times. Losing my job and my home was an embittering trial, but it served a purpose. Going to a church that starved me spiritually opened up so many avenues of doubt in my life that I felt as though everything I had ever believed about God and about myself wasn’t true, but it served a purpose. “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” –Romans 8:28, KJV
As a postscript, a friend in England directed me to a scripture memory challenge beginning January 1. I took the challenge and am working on my first scripture for the year, which fits this post so well (completely unplanned) that I can’t not share it with you.
“And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry; Who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious: but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief. And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.” -I Timothy 2:12-14, KJV
, but I plan on picking one up today. Prepare to motivate me. I need it. Or I fall off the edge of the earth with this stuff.
