[Sorry for the vagueness of this post. Perhaps I'll add specifics at some point, but right now it's not quite appropriate.]
You know how things often get uglier before they get better?
But then they do get better . . . or at least our attitudes change, which makes things considerably better.
For a number of reasons, I was up all night on Tuesday, worrying and upset about a number of things I had no control over. Tears were shed for the first time in a very long time. And it kind of felt good. Except that deep down, everything seemed really, really awful. I just couldn't shake the worries and sorrow that were plaguing me.
Oh, and my back really hurt.
Then Mario got up, went to work, and the sun came out. Literally and figuratively.
On his way out, he mentioned that he left me some money so I could head across town and meet up with my friends. While I thought that this was the least of my issues, I was able to roll over and finally get some sleep.
An hour and a half later, I woke up, and all was right with the world again. Go figure--such a little act, giving me money enough to get across town--was enough to restore order and balance to my world. Whew. For the first time in 12 hours, I was able to shake off that elephant that had been sitting on my chest.
Not coincidentally, this happened on Ash Wednesday. It wasn't the extra pesos in my pocket that made me realize that the sun could still shine. (Geez, I hope I'm not THAT materialistic!) It had been hinted to me for weeks, and now came home to roost, that I hadn't been placing my trust in God.
Had you asked me, I wouldn't have batted an eye when I responded, "well, of course I trust God!" But my mini-crisis told me otherwise. I still want to control every aspect of my life. While I thought I had relinquished control somewhere along the way, little by little I had clearly took back control of my life (yes, in some ways, taking control of one's life is a good thing . . . but thinking I can be in control of everything? Not so much. Not going to go into that, as I'm sure there are people out there who spend years devoting their doctoral theses to the subject).
I'm not a big fan of giving things up for Lent, but this year it's time I did. I'll give up control in exchange for a lot more trust. Certainly, it's not an achievement that I'll do in one day (or month, or year, and then I'll probably have to start all over again), but I'm committed to the process.
Already it's feeling like Easter.