Sometimes its hard not too see obstacles as punishment. Things will happen that leave us asking "What did I do to deserve this?" or "Why is this happening to me?"
I wrecked my car Saturday.
I guess accidents never happen at a good time, but en route to my best friend's wedding? Come on. . . I was due in Conway at 11 for pictures, but I crashed between Little Rock and Maumelle around 10:30. It went a little like a Nascar wreck. . . there was swerving, spinning, and crunching. The car stopped facing the wrong direction with both ends smashed.
First thoughts:
1. My toe hurts.
2. Deanna is going to kill me.
3. My parents are going to kill me.*
I wasn't hurt (other than a sore neck and monster bruise), but I honestly can't summon up much gratefulness for that. I'm stuck on regret and dread. Regret for my carelessness, dread for the overwhelming tasks ahead with insurance, repairing/replacing, and finding transportation in the meantime.
I made it to the wedding and was able to focus on that for the most part (except for the 15 minutes during the reception that I spent crying in the bathroom). My friends were great. Even people I didn't know had kind words for me. My parents? Well, they said they loved me and told me to check the bus schedules. You have salt? Sweet! Here's my open wound. . .
Trying to sleep last night was a joke. Lunesta can only help so much. I'd close my eyes and feel myself spinning again, replaying the whole scene in my mind. I didn't want to think about it. I just wanted to sleep.
My mind says this just happened, unrelated to any previous event or action. But my heart sees punishment, which leaves me asking, "For what?" I mentally defend myself, recounting my good deeds ("I really try to do the right thing, I work hard, I help my friends, I help homeless people [yes, I saw June again this week]. . . and so on).
I recognize that consequences are not the same as punishment. I know grace is real. But to be honest, what I think I know and what I feel are swimming around in my head, creating such chaos that I'm completely overwhelmed. In order to regain a little control I shut down, I distract myself so I don't have to deal.
I guess this is about more than a car. Its about feeling defeated, blow after blow. . . asking "why me? Why am I sick? Why don't the medicines work? Why. . . ?"
I want to recognize God's sovereignty and goodness, but the scars on my skin and in my heart beg for answers.
Other people's words make more sense than my ramblings:
"You Found Me" by The Fray
selected lyrics:
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me...
I’ve been calling for years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never send me no letters
You got some kind of nerve, taking all I want
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Where were you, where were you?
*Yes, I'm 24, and I still fear my parents wrath. Well, their disappointment more than anything.
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