Thoughts.com Blogs - It's a Cage Match: Me Vs. The Big Guy

It's official that I am crazy and should be put away some place where it's acceptable to drool, gibber, scratch, and ramble unintelligibles. I hope they have internet there. I would definitely miss my friends here, although I'm friendly enough to make some new imaginary ones in short order.

It's like this: my roomie showed up today. Things are looking up for him and his wife, and I am thrilled about this. I really am.

I had decided to get my errands done today, and spend the rest of the day hiding out. When I'm in this type of rage, this degree of anger that has no legal outlet, my family, lovingly refers to me as White Trailer Trash Jenny. Now, this in now way is an offense to anyone that lives in a trailer; it's just a phrase. And they call me this because I will blurt out unspeakables, flip sudden gestures, and speak my mind at will without any regard to offense. I don't even try for diplomacy. I'm extremely irrational. Thankfully, I only do this around my family. It usually one last for a day or so, but for that day, my family likes to keep an eye on me. They are afraid I will bust down a door, make the drive to someone's house and raise nine kinds of hell. Example: the usual Jenny has some class. She knows that the only real thing you have is your own self respect. SO, if I was to see Scott out somewhere, I would just ignore him. NOW, White Trailer Trash Jenny would call him out, call him a pig-f**king bastard, and God help him if he was with a chick. She would hear all kinds of things about him, and none of them flattering. In short, I would make an ass of myself. So, my family tries to keep tabs on me.

Anyhoo, the roomie: so, I'm sitting on my screened porch, with a glass of lemonade, stretched out on my Amish Chaise Lounger with my dogs, and up in the drive pulls roomie. At first, I'm a bit chagrinned......I wanted to be left alone. But you can't turn away the homeless. He joins me on my porch, which is quite nice on a day like this, actually, and asks me what's wrong. I apparently had the White Trailer Trash Jenny scowl on my face. So I tell him. I tell him about the book, I tell him what the information means to me, I tell him what I know now to be the truth. He listens. He has nothing to offer, other than, "Hey, I've known you your whole life, and you are one awesome chick. Someone will come along. I know it, even if you don't. Maybe you had to learn this lesson to recognize him?" But it was good to vent. It was good to be understood. He understood that the very things about me that I'm proudest of, are the very same qualities that drew Scott to me. And the other heartless bastards like him. I'm screwed, I tell him. Nah, he says........you're not. It'll happen for you in a whirlwind. You've just been on a long journey of what DOESN'T work for you. You haven't changed since I've known you. You've just grown up. You are the answer to some guy's prayer. Whatever, I'm thinking to myself.

Skip to later: I'm having one of my dialogues with the Big Guy. And I am pissed. Again. Or still. I'm not sure. I don't get it, I tell Him. Why, dammit? Why did You choose to create me the way You did, and then leave me hanging? Feed me to the wolves? You knew, I tell Him.......You knew he was everything I ever imagined. You knew I would drop the walls, trust implicitly, give my whole heart. You knew that he would be the one that made me believe that the real thing just might be possible. And You let him rip me in half. AND, he walks on. No loss to him. Just me. And I want to know why. If You are really still with me, I want to know why. Because I'm starting to feel like You are on the never-ending out-to-lunch, gone-fishin', whatever. I'm starting to feel like one big dumbass. Now, where the hell are You?

I didn't really get an answer like I wanted. What I felt in my heart was that I was either going to trust Him, or I wasn't. I couldn't pick and choose the areas I would leave in His hands, and hang on to the others. And, if I could actually see Him, if He was to physically manifest and drop Himself down on my screened porch, talk with me while I had a smoke and listen to me bitch, what would He say?

As infuriating as it is, He would say, "Pray for those who hurt you." He knows I can't forgive right now. I'm so far from forgiveness right now, I can't even remember the definition of the word. I know it's an instruction, not a suggestion, but dammit, I can only do so much. And I'm not there yet.

But I guess, this situation really has little to do with Scott. I call myself a Christian because of what I believe, but I know I'm not a shining example. I don't expect to ever be a role model. But it comes down to this: I'm either going to follow His instructions, the best I can, believe that He loves me and truly has the best in mind for me, or I'm not. And if I'm going to call myself a "believer", then it's time to bitch up and do what I don't want to do. Say a prayer I won't mean remotely right now, but one day, might actually be sincere. I'm going to offer up the best I have in terms of praying for the one person who has hurt me more than anything or anyone else in my lifetime. And not because I want to. Good Lord, I do and say enough things that would make most Christians raise an eyebrow at me anyway, but I couldn't possibly care less what they think. This is between me and Him, as are most things, really. And if that's what He says do, okay. I give. Prayer it is.