Friday, April 26, 2013

In Like a Lamb...Out Like a Lion?

Arg. Le sigh.

After Gertie the gallbladder, ended last semester with a bang, I wanted to finish my college career without any more "bangs". Apparently I didn't send that memo to the right person.

Saturday night I'm quite sure I had a puke on the side of the road experience that even drunk college students would be jealous of.

My husband had a Meat & Greet (yep spelled it that way on purpose) with his bosses and co-workers on Saturday night. I was excited to have a night away and some amazing Cagle's BBQ for dinner. So we were partying the night away. After dinner, I started feeling icky, but after an early appointment the middle of the week for some antidepressants (yep, I caved), I figured that it was the new meds. As they had already caused some other symptoms. So I wasn't too concerned, I just preferred not to barf on my husband's boss. Thankfully things ended and we left before I got sick. I told my husband that I wasn't feeling well, but he had been drinking, and I drove us home. The closer that we got to home, the more I was concerned about actually making it home before I had to hurl. I was doing the whole, breathe in, breathe out thing, and I was almost there. We turned onto our street, and I took another deep breath, and ... well, I'll spare you the details. But let's just say that down the street from us was a pile of vomit in the middle of the street. Because I was driving, I sorta used my shirt to the stuff while I could pull over.

So here I am, standing in the street in jeans, flip flops, and a shirt, covered in barf. Not wanting to get back into my less than year old car covered in puke, I took my shirt off, and did what any self respecting 33 year old would do. I left it in the street.

Yep. I abandoned my shirt in front of a complete stranger's house. I never really liked that shirt anyway. So it wasn't that big of a loss. My husband was kinda impressed that I got naked in the middle of the street though. I was impressed that I managed to drive 3 more blocks to our house and not puke, or get puke on anything else.

I've got a nasty bacterial intestinal infection called c diff. So, no school, no work for a couple of weeks, because I'm contagious. They don't want me to start an epidemic  They are totally no fun at all. Everyone should experience uncontrollable vomiting and diarrhea at least once in their life. I mean, where is there sense of adventure?

Tonight, I read an email from my advisor, because I'm trying to figure out how this semester is going to work itself out and I learn that my professors don't have to work with me. I'm sick. I'm staying home trying to get better, trying to make this work and turn in stuff via email and salvage some of my GPA for this semester, when I learn that it's up to the professors discretion. They can fail me for being sick and following doctor's orders and avoiding the faculty and staff. Even employees are protected by employment laws, but as a student, I apparently have no rights. They won't trust my doctors notes and information that I'm sick. That I'm actually protecting them. Isn't that awesome?

It seems like this week has dealt us a lot of blows. I'm getting limited funds for school for the fall and spring semester. Now I could be facing another F on my GPA. I worked my ass off this semester to attempt to make up for the F I got last semester, and now...well apparently, because I got infected from someone else with c diff, I'm stuck at home paying for their sins. Heck, they might have just been a desperate college student trying to avoid failing their semester, like I am.

Some days, I just would like things to work out for us, and not make things so difficult. Le sigh.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Suppose I Do....

Note: I wrote this post last September. So ignore the back to school references, and just pretend that I haven't had this sitting in my drafts for 6 months.

All across West Texas this morning, thousands of alarms were heard, thousands of cries of cranky children, and glorious shouts of joy were heard as everyone got up and headed back to school. (You know, back in August when I actually wrote this, so please allow for a small time delay, you've been warned.)

Unfortunately I wasn't immune. Not because I'm a teacher, or because I have children, but because I'm crazy and decided to continue to finish my degree. I keep hoping someone will invent a cure for crazy. I'd do it, but I'm an accounting major, not chemistry.

Sitting in church yesterday morning, after our pastor made a comment, that at the moment I can't remember. I'm blaming it on sleep deprivation and all the info that has been thrown my way today. My mind wandered a little.

More on that later. Simply because you need info for this to make sense. You know, in case you are just tuning in. And because I want to confuse you totally before you get to the good stuff.

My husband and I spent a couple of years (a lot of years ago) doing infertility treatments. We made the choice to continue on child-free, at least for the time being. Yet, there was some part of both of us that won't let go of that hope that someday, somehow, someway we will have that child that we both so want.

So as our pastor was discussing how they were rebuilding and how they were doing it together, and next to, and beside each other, and how all of these people were doing what they needed to do to get the job done, he said something that I just couldn't stop hearing over and over in my head.

And I'm not really sure if he actually said it, or if it was just how I took it. Maybe both. Because I seriously didn't know how my husband would feel about me scrambling to write down exactly how it came across, which by the way honey, no more not doing that, I'll regret it later. Especially since the frenzy would be so I could write a post for you to read.

Pastor B said something about trusting that they were doing what they were always meant to do. That they were following God's plan. That they were trusting God's plan, and that in the middle of the horrible, unbelievable, most horrific moment, God was right there.

It's so easy to tell someone else that, but it's much harder, especially for a control freak like myself, to believe it. I've given lots of situations over to God. I've given him my grandfather's life, I've given him my husband's, my marriage, I've handed over job loss and the unknown when there is no income coming in, I've even given him parts of my life. Not all of it, just parts of it. Because there's this one area that I just can't seem to let go of. I want to, but just about the time that I reach out to hand it over, my heart wants to cling to it.

Yet yesterday morning, sitting in that chair, in that freezing worship center, I heard God tell me to be patient. To have faith. To let it go. Trust. I've got some fabulous plans, ones that even you won't argue with.

Yep, apparently God is sarcastic. He knows what gets my attention.

It's not the first time, I've heard those words either.

Obviously you can see a pattern here too. And here. And here.

I still haven't obeyed. I still haven't managed to let her go.

Yes, I said her.

I've never doubted that I would have a little girl. There is nothing wrong with little boys, and the more time I spend with a certain 4 year old, I'd take one of them too. But I always known that there would be a little girl in there too. No matter what, I would have a girl. I've seen her face, I've dreamed about her. I've smelled her. I've held her. No, not in my arms, but I've dreamed about her for so long, that she's as real to me as my nieces and nephews. She's beautiful, she's perfect, she's everything that I always imagined she would be, but that's made her so much harder to give up. That's what's made it so much harder to walk away from.

Saturday I thought that my dogs might not live to see another day. Every behavioral issue with them was magnified about a bajillion times. They whined, they barked, they escaped, they got in the trash, they got mud in my car because they felt the need to escape. Everything that they did that annoyed me, they did it twice, and way worse than usual. So I lost my patience, I might have grabbed one, and held their sweet little face in my hands and told them that if they didn't quit, I would send them to the other side of town to the burrito place with questionable ingredients. I think they knew I was serious, because they backed off. Yet, if it had came down to it, I couldn't have walked up to some random stranger and given them away. I'm not sure I could even hand them over to my parents.

Insert smoke, and the Jeopardy theme song. You know, while the wheels are turning.

No, I wouldn't want to do it, but yeah, I could.

Well, crap. This wasn't the direction that this was supposed to be going.

Maybe that's why this issue keeps coming up. Because I refuse to have faith that God has my best interests at heart. I've seen to many close calls that should have ended differently to not believe that God is way more brilliant and has a better plan in mind. I keep going back to January when John lost his job. I love his job now, and if I had pushed him to take the job that he was offered making $9 an hour, we would be barely getting by. I'd be so stressed and so worried about how we were going to pay this bills while I went to school and only got a part time paycheck instead of a full time paycheck. But because I trusted John that this company was going to offer him the job. I believed that God would take care of us. I took a big leap of faith. Big. And 6 months later, we are fine. Because I let go.

Too bad there isn't a class that teaches letting go. Of course, I'd probably fail it. Several times.

Letting go is hard for me. I analyze everything. Every.thing. And then, I try and predict how each possible outcome will actually work out, so that I can try and predict the future. I try to manipulate everything to what I could have said different or done different or...anything different. I know that until I learn to let it go, it's going to do nothing but cause me undue heartache and headaches. It's going to be an area of my life that I second guess, and that will continue to break my heart.

"Some people think it's holding on that makes you strong. Sometimes it's letting go." ~Sylvia Robinson

"When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better." ~Author Unknown


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