At any rate, it's just a cold. A stupid cold, in addition to the dysfunctional digestive tract (which I'm sure you're all tired of hearing about) that gives added dimension to what it means to be sore from a cold. My poor students. I'm sure they want their old teacher back-- the one who teaches them Yoga at lunch or line-dancing after school. Or who throws that rubber rock at them whenever they give really dumb answers to obvious questions. (They do it on purpose, I swear.)
Because I'm in such a mood, I think it's appropriate to predict what other events will occur this Crit:
- My cold will turn into the flu.
- My flu will turn into a weird strain that the CDC will insist on studying. I'll be quarantined, and they won't even give me a TV or books. Just old copies of Seventeen magazine about Justin Beiber.
- My weird flu strain will turn into the zombie virus, and I'll become the one responsible for the impending zombie apocalypse. You're welcome.
- My dogs will run away, because I never walk them anymore. I always mean to, but... alas....
- My car's engine will fall out.
- Every appliance will decide to stop working. Not just my appliances. Every appliance everywhere.
- Someone will make me watch The Lone Ranger again. (Bad movie. Bad, bad movie.)
- Juan Pablo won't find true love.
- My bladder will go out, and I'll have to wear Depends.
- I'll have to pay a ridiculous amount in taxes equaling a month's paycheck. (Oh, wait. That was last year.)
- If I had a boyfriend, he'd break up with me.
Actually, though, I don't say this so that anyone feels sorry. (Unless you want to walk my dogs. Then, feel sorry for me.) I really don't feel sorry for myself. Besides my initial reaction to getting a cold, I'm all right with this. I'm holding on to the good (that I'm mostly functioning) and letting go of the bad (that my Emergen-C failed me).
The older I get (Pushing 30, folks! I know what I'm talking about!), the more I realize that learning to live happily has a lot to do with holding on to some things and learning to let others go. As a teacher, I learned quickly that I can't control what goes on in my students' homes. I can, however, control what my classroom's environment will be-- safe, reliable, consistent. Holding on to that responsibility, and focusing on that, helps in learning to let go of what I cannot change.
Remember a couple of posts ago? Worry about what "is," not what "if."
I suppose that all of us, at some point or another, feel like we have to face the armies of the world with nothing more than a toothpick with which to defend ourselves. Whether it be a battle of finances, a battle of health, a battle of belonging, etc, etc. (Etc. means I got tired of thinking of things to list.) That's life, right? You either cave in and fail, or you don't. You either hold on to every little thing and let it crush you, or you learn to let go. You learn to hold on to what little slivers you can control, and you cling to the glimmers of sunlight that give you joy. That's life. For those of us who don't quit, I firmly believe that this refining pressure will turn us into diamond-like versions of ourselves.
Luckily, I don't think any of us were ever meant to face these obstacles alone. What would going it alone really accomplish? Even though my family and many close friends aren't readily available, should I need them, I am lucky enough to work with many elect ladies (who are also friends) who could help me stare down those armies of misfortunes I face. And even if they weren't available, I still don't feel alone. (But isn't sitting alone in your house every night being alone?.... Hey, peanut gallery, let me explain-- sheesh.)
Yeah-- this is going to get religious. Again, I invite you to stop reading if religion is the kind of thing which offends you, or if it's something you find incomprehensible. That's Ok. We can still be friends.
There's a song I heard once growing up. (Not an expression. I really only heard it once.) I don't remember the exact words, but it was about a girl growing up. As a little child playing with her friend, they struggle to find an appropriate way to share. The girl asks her friend, "Which part is yours, and which part is mine? I think I'm unsure." As an older girl, she had a problem and needed her mom's help. She went to her mom and said, "Mom, which part is yours [to worry about], and which part is mine? I think I'm unsure." She wanted to do her best, but she also knew that she needed help. Several verses later, the girl is married and raising teenage children. Sending her child out one night, she finds herself nervously kneeling in prayer. She says, "Lord, which part is yours [of raising my child], and which part is mine? I think I'm unsure.".... I really wish I could remember more about the song, so that I could have y'all listen to it too.
At any rate, I find myself in that position a lot lately. "Lord, which part is yours? Which part is mine?" Or, what are those things that You'll care for? What are those things which I should be doing? What should I be holding onto? Of what should I be letting go? More often than not, I find that my portions of my own agony are much smaller than His portions of my agony. Not quite sure how it works out like that.
That's what having a relationship with Jesus Christ does for me. Somehow, not just magically and metaphorically, but very literally, through His Atonement, my armies of frustrating challenges are eliminated from before me. Somehow my toothpick becomes a walking stick, and I'm able to move forward as I keep His commandments, do all I can to endure, and leave the rest to Him.
Yeah. I don't know what the rest of Crit is going to look like. I suppose it doesn't really matter. From an eternal perspective, all of these small things will eventually amount to one very important thing: the development of myself into who my Heavenly Father would have me be.
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