Sunday, April 09, 2006

When Life Hands You Shit....Get A Catcher's Mit And Play Ball

Now some of you out there in Bloggerdom might read that headline and think, wow, what a strong woman! Well clever words aside, I haven't felt so strong lately. And now after a week off from work, it's time to go back . I didn't get the time at the beach I had hoped for. I also spent way too much time worrying about someone else's threats to disrupt my life. I spent too much time wth my stomach in knots being afraid of the ,"what ifs.' Last week this time, I was sitting in my car at church crying my eyes out, hoping someone would care enough to ask me what was wrong but knowing no one would even notice me. When I pulled it together enough to go inside after services were over, thinking I could talk to the pastor, he was out of town. I was desperate. I grabbed Alan by the shirt sleeve and he prayed for me. Then he talked to me as if he really cared what was going on. Do I sound a little cynical? Well I used to cry quite a bit when things went wrong. I thought if I cried hard enough, someone would come along and rescue me. Over the years I've learned one thing. No one is going to rescue me. I must do that myself. It's ok to cry. My friend Janet puts it this way; "it's ok to be human." But these days when the tears are all over, I know I must get up and do something, whatever that 'something' is to make things better. Today, I thought a little barbecue on the deck would make me feel better about going back to the grind, uh excuse me, the JOB. The sun was out and the coals were just right. Lake Wobegon and NPR was on the radio. Everything in my little world felt peaceful and civilized for the first time in weeks and then the grill toppled over with a rack full of chicken. Fortunately, the grill hood caught it all and the meat didn't hit the moldy wood of the deck. I put the meat in the sink, rinsed it off and finished cooking it in the oven. As if to remind me that I must save myself, my neighbors were in their yard and watched the whole thing happen without offering to ask if I needed help. At one point I was balancing the hot grill with one hand and a hose with the other. My face was a couple inches from hot coals when I realized flames could shoot up and I'd really be in trouble. I moved my head just as flames did just that. I was pretty calm about the whole thing. After the meat finished cooking in the oven, I was just glad I hadn't gotten burned. This isn't one of those times when I leared a lesson I didn't know. This time, I received a reminder that SHIT HAPPENS and when it does I'll just get my mit and PLAY SOME DAM BALL!

3 Comments:

At 8:46 AM , Blogger Stephen Bess said...

Yeah, people are something. They didn't offer any help? Where's the southern hospitality? It's a myth! Glad to hear that things are better. Prayer definitely helps.

 
At 4:41 PM , Blogger barbie said...

When people do things like that it only makes me more grateful that this child has got her own...And yes Southern hospitality is a myth. Seeing and keeping others down is the only way most Southerners can feel good about themselves.

 
At 4:52 PM , Blogger garridogal said...

Remind me not to accept an invite to YOUR house for a cook out!!!

 

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