I've been thinking about that commercial (can't remember what it's for), but there is a big dog who sits and waits ever so nicely while her person gets an ice cream cone, and the voice over sings something about, "Sometimes it hard to do the right thing." I'm there. On that edge. And there is a chance I won't do as well as the nice big doggy. I don't want to do the right thing. I'm having a hard time with the whole concept. I don't want to sit and stay. I don't want to breathe and pray and respond from my center. I think I may feel a bit like Tandaina's horse, wanting to rear up and toss whoever is on my back. I want to throw a tantrum. I want to yell and scream and kick and pound. I want to talk back, to say, "It's not fair! I did not! And you did, so!" I want to give vent to all the pent up frustration I am feeling right now. And I want to do it in ways that are neither nice nor adult, never mind even remotely appropriate to any of the roles I play in any of the situations that are triggering all this.
God, as always, has a hand in this. I can see it, much as I keep wanting to put my hands up over my eyes and hide, or turn tail and run (or even rise up and buck away). But, as always, things keep finding me. The coming Sunday's Gospel, the comments of friends, a "random" blog that I happen to find. Oh, yeah, God is not letting me off the hook here. And now that I think about it, I might like to include God in the tantrum, too. My comments in that direction might be along the lines of "You expect too much! I'm tired and I want to quit and every time I try to hide from You, You go seeking me out and finding me!" Perhaps I should have thought through this surrender business better. I find I am thinking longing thoughts about that bag of armor and weapons I finally left behind. Oh how they are missed. Why did I think they would be the thing to leave behind, what was Jesus thinking to ask that? I had a feeling I might need them again some day. But it's too late now. They are gone, left beside the road back there, and I moved on. I'm too tired to go back for them, and certainly no-one will be delivering them, so I'm afraid I might have to make do without them. Somehow. At some level, I know that I have to, like Tandaina's horse allow myself to continue to be moved forward so I am in less danger of rearing and bolting. I must breathe and I must pray. I must do without the bag of armor and ask God to see me through this as God has been seeing me through so far. I must sit and stay.There really is no other option. But today I don't have to like it. And today it's kind of shakey. Sometimes it's really hard to do the right thing.