Don’t Wanna!

It’s another day where my email inbox is so overstuffed with stuff that I miss even seeing half of it.  It’s metaphoric for one of the big questions of life in general:  How can I have LESS of the stuff I don’t want and MORE of the stuff I DO want?

While the internet is fairly new, this question is an ancient one.  Why is it that we seem to get more of what we don’t want, and less of what we want?  Could it simply be that we notice the “Don’t Wants” more?

The Don’t -wants scream louder. They get in our face and disrupt our best laid plans. The database crashes or the internet service at my office konks out and I hear “new cable…4 week wait.”  Illness interferes with vacation plans…and that’s just the small stuff.

Yet it’s the small stuff that can sap our energy and turn life into a palette of dull colors. We begin to notice more and more of the small stuff we don’t want and in turn, expect more of the same. Consequently, we tend to notice the Don’t-wants more than anything, and we then live a self-fulfilling prophecy.

http://www.women-at-the-well.com

This seems obvious, but is it?  Ask someone what’s bothering them and you’ll get a list.  Ask how they are blessed and they may list a few things (unless their database crashed that morning or they had a flat tire, etc.)  Perhaps it’s human nature to notice what’s wrong, but why is it human nature to go out seeking more of the same?  Is it because we feel that we need validation?  “See, I TOLD you….Nothing ever goes right!”

Neutralizing the Don’t-wants takes a bit of effort to consciously notice and acknowledge the things in our lives that we do want.  This is where developing an “attitude of gratitude” comes in. It takes some effort to not focus on Migraine Mountain and instead focus on the simple fact that “I got up this morning.”  (Some days that’s about the best I can come up with.) But it gets easier.

The first thing we notice is that we aren’t really seeing anything NEW, we’re just…seeing. Hm, if I didn’t see a car under the carport every morning, that would be a real problem. Not having a job to complain about is a bigger complaint than whining about an unfulfilling job. What’s the shortest blues song ever?  “I didn’t wake up this morning.”  You get the picture.

My feet hurt.  Thank you, God, I am able to stand.
I’m tired.  Thank you, God, I had someone counting on me today.
It’s been MamaMamaMama all day.  Thank you, God, I have children who turn to me and sometimes even listen to me!

If you happen to be thinking “oh, I’ve heard all this gratitude stuff before,” then why aren’t you taking it to heart?  Here’s a challenge:  Take the next 20 minutes and look around you, and just say “thank you for…….” and keep going.  Don’t stop, keep going even if you find yourself saying “thank you for ice cubes…for refrigerators…for garden hoses…for the garbage that I have to take out…”  Make that thank you list as long as you can, and I’ll bet you run out of time before you run out of things to list.

It might be slow at first, but keep it up.  Go out of your way to spend “Gratitude Minutes,” especially when you are feeling crushed by the Don’t-wants.  You might be surprised to start seeing more of the things you want show up more frequently.

Offer it up

Offer it up.

I can’t quite remember when my young self first encountered this spiritual concept, but I believe it was somewhere in between “Who made me?” “God made me” and Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy… By the time I was in the 3rd grade, the idea of “offering it up” for the repose of the souls in purgatory was ingrained in my psyche.  I wasn’t too sure what “repose” meant, but I well knew by then what purgatory was.  According to my teacher, it was a place where I was going to spend a LOT of time.

I had learned that suffering and misery were the currency of the spiritual realm.  No amount of suffering was too much.  In fact, no amount was ever enough, so I’d better learn to “offer it up” for some other pour soul and hope that I’d have someone else suffering on my behalf when it was my turn to be stuck in purgatory for a few millennia.

It would be several years before I dared to question this spiritual Ponzi scheme.  After all, I asked Sr. Rose in 10th grade, if Jesus paid our debt for us, why does anyone need me to make deposits in the Bank of Purgatory?  I wasn’t (regardless of what Sr. Rose thought) trying to be a smart Alec.  I simply couldn’t follow the logic of the “offer it up” concept.

It would be decades before I came to my own conclusion: We weren’t depositing spiritual currency, hoping to earn interest.  Instead, we were receiving a windfall of Grace.

My mistake was to interpret “offer it up” as a way to be pious in misery.  That always struck me as proud.  How magnanimous, to think that one could help to spring souls from their purgatorial prison! “Oh, how I suffer!” Then, there was the idea that someone other than Christ could redeem souls, even if our suffering were but a few pennies towards the payment.  A god who wanted our suffering did not seem to be the same God who regularly filled my backyard with climbing trees and flowers, or our pond with fish, or the sky with a never-ending picture show, or my family’s hearts with love. How could this “god” want to collect our suffering?

After rejecting this misery-monger god for some time, I realized I really had it all wrong.  God does want our misery, but God does not want us to be miserable.

Offer it up.  No matter what misery and pain we have, God will take it.  God will take our misery into the comforting arms of amazing love and grace, for only there can our pain (and we) be transformed. Offer pain, sorrow, misery, disappointment, loss.  Offer it all, not as penance or payment, but rather as release.  Who are we to think that we can bear such things alone?  What must we think of God, to imagine that God wants us to steep in this misery and pain? Life can be hard enough even with Divine help! Who do we think God is, to say that God gave us Christ, the Lamb of God – oh, and by the way, there’s still an outstanding debt and you can make a payment on it by suffering.  No, God can take our misery and pain and carry it all with us and for us when our human strength is simply gone.  I’m not being Pollyanna here, I’m being a realist.  There are painful, terrible things in life. Only God can take these offerings that blind us with pain and bear them, until we are able to start to see a bit beyond the darkness, and once again start to see the climbing trees, flowers, and the skies.  Come to think of it, only God can do that.

And God can only do that if we choose to “offer it up.”