It was sunny and in the upper 40s, so the dog and I took a long walk. A good time was had by all. That was the only fun today - I spent the rest of the afternoon working on finances, and at the present, that is completely unenjoyable. I went to church tonight because I had a serious need to go back to confession.
This morning I made my guardian angel facepalm again. I'm tired of wearing gloves in the house and eating potatoes. Six weeks of potatoes. I've lost ten pounds, and that's great - being hungry is a terrific weight-loss program. But I'm tired of gloves and potatoes. So this morning I had a pity party and got angry over all the financial doors that have closed in my face. Then I got dressed, had breakfast, sat down for prayer time, and came to my senses. It's God who opens and closes doors, not chance, or even the people who think they are the doorkeepers. And in spite of the doors that have closed, He had continued to take care of me. He has hedged me into exactly these circumstances. And that means that this is exactly the right place for me to be.
I'm not passively waiting for God to rescue me. I'm knocking on all the doors I can find. And even the ones that seem made for me have closed. I'll keep working and knocking. But, while I'm doing that, I'll try to do a better job of trusting. After all, we never really provide for ourselves, no matter what we think. Our jobs and our ability to work are gifts from God.
The doors that have closed seem ludicrous. I can't get a nursing job because I'm too old and have too much experience. I can't access my home equity because I have a 1099 instead of a W2 and my credit score is only 750. The state website won't let me renew my substitute license and I can't get a person to answer the phone. I could go on and on. It looks insane. Only the Lord could block so many things that should be so simple. So, once again, I'm building bigger faith muscles. They ache and burn, but that's the only way to build muscle tissue. I've never had my complete dependence be so obvious.
I'm still here, still standing, still paying the bills. The God of widows and orphans is taking care of me. So I went to confession tonight and told Father that I'd fallen flat on my face again this morning, and he said that God forgives. I'll try to do better. Please keep praying for me. I probably make you facepalm, too. Don't hit yourself too hard. I know you're not on coumadin anymore, but I don't want you to hurt yourself. Just please pray for me, that I'll remember this and not repeat this morning's pity party. If Pavlov had worked with me, we wouldn't know a thing about operant conditioning.
Your dense, hard-headed wife,