In this post, will I be
unnecessarily overly vulnerable, or will I just be wallowing in self-pity? I
don't know. Honestly, it's hard for me to tell. But I hope that while reading this
post, you can dig through it and find a nice gem that you can take with you and
enjoy. Thank you in advance for reading.
I'm discovering that PMS
and seasonal emotional crises can be wickedly terrible combinations. I suppose
you could say that PMS in and of itself is an emotional crisis, but since PMS
comes with an expiration date and can be appeased at any time with mere
chocolate, and because you know it's coming and you know exactly what to
expect, it's really not that bad. However, I didn't like hearing the words "Father,
I don't want to play this game anymore; I want to go home" coming out of
my mouth while I was crying myself to sleep last night. Considering that my
Father is the God of the universe, uh, I think that's a rather dangerous prayer
to utter, even when it's bubbling out of a terribly deep wound. I hope He
simply heard the heart of an exhausted little girl who was in so much pain that
she didn't fully realize what she was saying.
I consider myself a very
tough person. Yesterday while I was processing some things, God was like,
"You're a lion tamer." I pictured myself opening the deadly jaws of a
deadly animal and being very comfortable with handling the fierce feline. I
hope God can trust me with dangerously crazy assignments in the same way that
He trusted David with the lion and the bear, in the same way that He trusted
Moses with Pharaoh and the plagues, and in the same way that He trusted
Elijah with the Jezebel-favored Baal prophets. God has brought me through some
hefty trials and some seriously strange seasons. He has allowed me to smell the
stenches of various types of pits, even dance around some of their edges, and
become familiar with how to recognize, conquer, and escape them. Through Jesus,
my Father has made me more than a conqueror, and His Holy Spirit empowers me to
move mountains, leap tall buildings in a single bound, and master any challenges
that come my way.
And yet, I have an
Achilles' heel: rejection.
No matter how tough I
am, rejection has always been able to turn me into a blubbering little girl who
wants to cry into her Daddy's bosom and forget about the world around her. I'm
not saying that I'll never, ever conquer rejection as long as I live. (Will
anyone? I don't think rejection will ever go away for anybody.) I'm saying that
I can't believe how many frickin' layers upon layers upon layers upon layers
upon layers upon layers upon layers of rejection there are to work through.
Hmm. Maybe it's a good thing God has trained my hands for war and my fingers
for battle (Psalm 144). My combat training will definitely come in handy.
There are plenty of
instances when rejection is necessary. For example, this is the top of my jelly
jar. The instructions state to reject the jar if the button is up. This
indicates, of course, that somebody has already opened the jar, that its
contents have possibly been tampered with, and that purchasing it could be
asking for trouble. The safest thing to do is leave the unpurchased jar on the
store shelf and choose another jar instead.
There are also plenty of
instances when rejection is unnecessary, confusing, and a complete mystery. For
example, one of the people who bought stuff from me on eBay rejected the
package I mailed him -- no explanation, no note, no nothing. He just won the
auction, paid for his item, and then 3 weeks later I got the package back
unopened. I contacted him, gave him a refund, and am in the process of trying
to sell it to somebody else. This was so weird to me. I've been selling stuff
on eBay off and on for the past 9 years. Nobody has ever rejected an item after
the fact like that. This was a good-quality item, too -- the best-kept,
shiniest, nicest-looking one out of all the other items I was selling in that
batch. I have no idea why it was rejected without explanation.
Of course, people aren't
items, but they can, unfortunately, be treated in similar ways.
I've had to reject
people and completely cut myself off from them after they made me feel unsafe
and refused to change their ways. Sorry, but I like how my heart beats in my
chest, and I would like to keep it there in one piece, thank you very much.
I've also rejected
people unnecessarily, and I've totally treated them like crap. Truly, I am terribly
sorry.
I've also been rejected
without explanation, at different levels, and I understand how excruciating it
feels, to the point of discussing it with my therapist years later. "So,
you've said you feel that you are always replaced by someone younger and cuter
than you. Talk more about that."
"He is despised and
rejected by men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it
were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He
has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted." (Isaiah 53:3-4)
If I am rejected, I am
in very good company. In fact, I'm in the greatest Company that I could ever
hope for. Jesus was rejected. Jesus is still rejected today. Jesus knows
rejection so well that He died for it.
The thing about Jesus is
that He falls into the category of unnecessary, confusing, complete-mystery
rejection. There is absolutely, completely, 100% nothing wrong with Jesus. He
never sinned. He never did anything wrong. He is the most perfect Person in existence. There is absolutely no reason why
anyone should reject Him, to the point that rejecting Him is eternally
tragic. And yet, people still reject Him. I rejected Him. I thought He was
boring. But I think what I interpreted as "boring" is actually
"The Safest Person In The Universe."
So, most of the time, I
don't understand why people reject me. (Those who explain why are usually quite
snippy and cruel, but at least they make the forgiveness- and break-away
process quicker and easier.) But I understand Who to run to when I hurt. God
understands everything, and He can't turn me away, because He bought me. My
Father bought me with Jesus. He chose me. I don't understand why He chose me,
but I probably shouldn't overanalyze that. I think I would much rather just
keep coming to Him and bringing my pain to Him, even if it means me soaking my
face into my pillow while my little cat wildly rubs her cheeks on my hand
and arm to comfort me in the night.
From what I understand,
chocolate is helpful during PMS because it has endorphins. I think maybe
blogging has endorphins, too, because I feel better. My heart is still beating
in one piece in my chest, thank you very much.
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