Losing My Mind

Posted By Dori Killion on May 2, 2018 | 0 comments

Nearly every day I am with people who know me and forgive me. What a joyful feeling that is for someone who is a recovering open-mouth-insert-foot sufferer. I am in constant danger of thinking out loud and forgetting boundaries. There is a faux pas resting on my lips always waiting to burst out. Ta-Da!

Here is one of my daily confessions: I happily live alone. No, I live beyond alone. I live in peace and solitude: this glorious space where I don’t have to speak in complete sentences or even use real words. God needs no translation. On a typical day my communion with God is about forgiveness and work and humor and relationships and aspirations and always includes watching the news. That is when I will sometimes lose my mind … so much kvetching you wouldn’t believe. Here is where God invites me to relieve the pressure; leave my pain and anger … and I try. How else will I restore peace to my day?

I have a dear friend who proudly displays her faith in prayer with a story about a parking spot. You guessed it: she needed one, she prayed for one, she got one. I have another dear friend who must have complete control in order to have peace. She is agnostic and never speaks of prayer. I fall somewhere between these two positions. As a kid I knew not to ask for stuff and malcontent was not tolerated. As I became independent my expectations grew until one day I had a delightful aha moment when I heard the expression “First World Problems”. It reminded me to check my perspective about “needs”.

I don’t know when it happened but one day I just decided that God is always here with me and that is enough. God does not intervene in my life. God already created me with everything I need to make things right. My job is to reach outside myself so that together, you and I can help make that so. My promise is to practice gratitude daily and to have hope in spite of the horrible things we do to each other; to have hope while knowing that the process of making things right is painfully slow.

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