Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other? (Evan Almighty)
And here we are to the present. It's been a very long, excruciatingly long, week. It almost brings back memories of when I was in grad school and the SLP department had the lovely idea for all classes to end by mid afternoon (can't complain yet) and therapy to be done by five PM (still can't complain) leaving me time to actually get work done during the week and have absolutely nothing to do during the weekend except watch Gilmore Girls (no cable... sucked), Netflix, and devour raw cookie dough, jalapeno chips, and lemonade. Not all at once. That would indicate something else. But still, when you have three day weekends (no class or clinic on Fridays for me), there is only so much you can do in a 550 square foot studio without going Mad Hatter mad.
So here I am, a year and handful of months later, with a contract job, and all of a sudden it's "let's not show up to our appointments" week. Yipee. Thank goodness it was pay day Wednesday or else I may have thrown a wad of playdough or a package of laminating sheets at the wall. That's the joys of being in an office with no windows (aka my dungeon): kids will actually pay attention (somewhat) instead of staring at the window like I did when I was trying to study for my Research Methods class. Sometime I think it would be easier if I threw in some money or candy to get them to pay attention. One kid I see (I swear has ADHD, or little sh-- disorder, I haven't decided yet) had to be retested this week, and Lord knows pointing to pictures is a chore as opposed to bribing him with whatever "boy" games are on my iPad. Whatever little one, you can roll your eyes at me, complain and put your head down on my table all you want. I have way more experience than you do with complaining, and not to mention, I'm a girl. It's in my genes. Bring it on.
Aside from the paperwork that I have been procrastinating on, this week has been full of lessons on patience, understanding, and forgiveness. Matthew 18:21-22 talks about forgiveness, and how to we should continue to forgive just as Jesus did. That's where the patience comes in. Proverbs talks about understanding, and how we need to (in a sense) put the shoe on the other foot, or walk around in the other person's moccasins, if you will. Lord knows with my stubborn spirit, this is a difficult task. Do I really want to set aside my own pride and look at things in their perspective? I argue with myself on this topic daily, but it has to be done. The world doesn't revolve around me, and I need to learn that it is far better to put others before myself rather than putting myself first.
In the short decade that I have been dating (now we're getting to the juicy stuff... right? Maybe. Be patient with me.), I have come to the realization that men are not as predictable as I had thought or hoped. I remember dating my first boyfriend, whatever his name was, (I think I called him Goober most of the time, so the nickname stuck more that anything) and immaturely thinking, "I'm going out (as we called it back then) with someone who is two and a half years older than me - eek! He's sooo much more mature and cooler than my friends." Well wooptie-frickin-doo, my darling. You shouldn't have let that scum bag within five hundred yards of you.
I digress.
I thought that I was done with dating. I thought that he was the one, and that was the end of it, and we would live happily ever after. After all, he already had the profession, the house, the truck (I'm a sucker for trucks, sorry), and the dog. My dream dog. It was like everything was falling into place and I was just along to enjoy the ride. And then reality shoved me out of my dream. His set-in-stone way of doing things clashed with my easy-going spirit. I felt like I wasn't a partner in a relationship, but an employee, having to walk around on egg shells so I didn't wake the sleeping bear. And the rules. Oh, the rules. Who has rules when you're dating someone? Okay, let me back up. I know there has to be someone due to morals, religious beliefs, etc., but these rules were just plain silly. Must have an hour or two of complete silence in the morning. Respect the schedule. Don't have dinner with other guy friends, but you can go to the Lumberjack Boobs restaurant all you want with their mini shorts, stuffed, plunging bras, and overdone makeup. Revolve every social event to work around football. I'm a loyal OSU fan like the next alum, but good grief. Lesson learned, talk about everything under the sun before you inadvertently become too serious.
Everything works out for God's greater purpose. That very phrase kept me from balling my eyes out last night. Maybe this is a time for me to be single and really figure out what I want in life. Who I want to be. For as much as I can remember, I have either been with a guy, talking or flirting with a guy, and not really letting myself be by myself. I haven't had the chance to really become the woman that I want to be. I've always been indirectly trying to mold myself to become the person that he wants, not Him. I haven't listened to what God really wants me to do with my life, and how He wants mold me into the person that I should become.
Lessons learned. Date Jesus before guys. Listen to what He has to say rather than what the world says. Everything will work out for the best in the end, according to God's purpose.
