much ado about not much at all

And so I find myself working a full time job. It's one of the last things (apart from joining a convent or the military) that I would have predicted or desired for myself, and even now I often find myself wishing I was on a different path, and wondering why I'm not. (I suppose this seems weird, in a world where the norm is for girls to pursue a career of some form or another; but that is a topic for another day.) However, I can begin to see how, if I were to spend all my time keeping house, reading, writing, and doing the other things I used to think I was going to do with myself, I would probably become too comfortable, and lose sight of the need for continued growth. Stagnation never does much toward saving the world.

Sometimes I am mildly perturbed, for reasons varying widely in their degree of selfishness, by the sadly deficient nature of my appearance. But then I think to myself, you know, if I were beautiful at all, I would run a high risk of becoming intolerably vain about it. Not to say that I'm not vain enough as it is. I am, to be sure, but my current vanity is tempered by the constant reminder that it has no basis in reality. So in the end, it's probably more of a blessing than a curse, even though it's easier to see it the other way around.

Often, what looks like a disaster, or at least a disappointment, is actually the best possible thing that could have happened. Actually, scratch that part about "often". Make it always. Several well-known and oft-quoted verses come to mind:
"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)
"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the LORD, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)
"Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
"And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope." (Romans 5:3-4)
And there are more...but you get the idea.

Now, perhaps you are thinking to yourself, "This is all true, and certainly it is glorious and wonderful and well worth reminding ourselves of; but it's not a very original thing to devote a blog post to." (Not that blog posts have to be original--mine are living (or dead) proof of that.) Well, the abnormal part of this train of thought is still coming, so keep your shirt on.

It's entirely possible that I am the only person in the history of mankind to have felt this particular way; at least, I don't recall ever hearing anyone else speak of it in my presence. So perhaps I am sticking my neck out here; perhaps this is the testing point, the point at which clinical insanity is diagnosed, the point of no return. Maybe they'll name a whole new species of mental instability after me. That would be one way to go down in history, though I can think of a few better. Curing the common cold, for example, or inventing disposable clothing. But I digress.

The thing is that, though knowing and believing that God really does work all things (including unpleasantnesses, if that's a word) for good is a tremendous comfort, my appallingly sinful nature has found a way to shade even this truth with grey, and twist it into something it's not. Observe:

-My primary "goal" (if you want to call it that) in life is to be a wife and mother, a keeper at home; and that's what I think it should be. But sometimes I think I want it too much, and then it begins to seem likely that God will see fit to re-organize my priorities by causing me to live out my days as an old maid.

-I think it would be rather disappointing and difficult, not to mention boring, to be rich. So sometimes I think that I will probably inherit a prosperous diamond mine, or marry a multi-millionaire, in order to learn patience, temperance, wise generosity, and...who knows what else.

-I hate city driving, and I would miss the sunset and the stars dreadfully; so in order to remove distractions and fix my mind more firmly on things that actually matter, perhaps God has a long-term city dwelling in my future. Probably a high-rise apartment in downtown Chicago, with one window, no yard, and noisy traffic 24/7. Ouch.

-I think it would be fun to have twins, so I probably won't.

-I would rather not be burnt at the stake, so I probably will.

-In the unlikely event that there is someone out there who is simultaneously godly enough for me to want to marry him, and crazy enough to want to marry me, I suppose he will have a bent towards know-it-all-ism, will hate reading and love rap, will have an annoying Boston accent, and will have a last name starting with G. (Cursive G's are such a plague.) All of those things would be somewhat difficult to live with, but I'm sure I would learn all kinds of valuable things through the experience (and I mean that).

Do you see the pattern? In all these things, I keep in mind (quite sincerely) that God can and will use everything He does in my life for my good. I acknowledge, pretty readily, that the things I think I want are often inferior to the things I actually need, and that God knows the difference between the two infinitely better than I do. My problem is that I start to assume that He will pretty much always use the most unpleasant means available to teach me the things I need to learn. I begin to subconsciously feel that, although the end result will be good, God would like me to suffer as much as possible between now and then...just because.

It's a subtle perversion of the truth, because God's ways aren't our ways, and often they really are painful and unpleasant to endure. And really, if God does see fit for me to be a rich, apartment-dwelling old maid until I am finally burnt at the stake in my old age, He will have done me no wrong. The problem isn't with the hypothetical situation, but with my arrogance and lack of trust in attempting to predict God's plan, and in assuming it will be everything I hope it's not.

I suppose I make myself sound like a confirmed and irrevocable pessimist. The redeeming quality all this absurdity has to it, is that it is almost always subconscious, half-hearted, and semi-jocular. So why do I write about it at such length? Good question.

So. How about it? Am I off my onion? Well, duh...