The Curse of Jo March

The tags on this article cover everything. Anger. Resentment. Rejection. Grinch. Scrooge. Bitterness.

Bah humbug.

Fear not: I sound worse than I really feel, and I promise to end this post on a positive note.

When I first got the email this morning - two days before Christmas - that the manuscript I submitted eight months ago had been rejected - well, let's just say I felt like pulling my hair out.

Oh, and that's another thing. I've always had quite the mane, but lately, more than a few gray hairs are winding up in the brush and on the pillow.

Alopecia, anyone?

My prayer partner, too, is feeling bereft, for reasons of her own (not least of which is that corona fear has kept her under house arrest since March 13). That places her aggravation a good month and a half ahead of mine, since my book proposal didn't hit the agent's inbox till April 21. I guess if there's a prize for longest running exasperation, I'll have to defer to Tina.

Interestingly, I woke up wondering what message God would lay on my heart to share today or tomorrow. I always seem to receive an emphatic heavenly nudge right in the middle of my holiday hysteria, when it's least convenient to sit down and write. 

Somehow the Lord never seems to mind upending my schedule.

So, I find myself back to counting blessings. It's the soundest strategy I know for laying resentment where it belongs, in the dung heap with the rest of Satan's tactics.

And, oh, the blessings I still have to count, in a year when disease has stolen so many loved ones from family hearths and gouged gaping holes in legions of pocketbooks .

A daughter-in-law who sends a video of me cuddling my grandson and listening to his laughter, just when I'm missing my cherubs the most. Another soon-to-be daughter, who invites me to her family's Christmas table so I won't have to celebrate Christ's birth alone. Two loving, responsible sons who have been there for me more times than I can count. A host of trusted friends - some long standing, some arriving later in life - but all cherished and held dear. A school year that, while strange and challenging, includes an adorable student who even loves my singing and storytelling!

What was I upset about again?

After reading the agent's refusal, but before counting my blessings (which I was in no mood to do just then), I decided to cheer myself up by throwing a few ornaments on our heretofore barren Christmas tree. First on the list: my Little Women figurine of Jo March, aspiring author, but in her rightful place, just below Jesus.

There, lest we forget, is where all aspirations belong.

God bless us, everyone.

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say rejoice!" 

~Philippians 4:4~

"In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

 ~1 Thessalonians 5:18~

Check out this terrific tune from Matthew West: The Hope of Christmas

Growing Pains, AKA, the New Normal

In my last post, I discussed allowing myself to be thrown off kilter by a "Scrooge" after having an otherwise very balanced day. Subsequent to that post, "Scrooge" apologized for being grouchy, and I, likewise, took ownership of my grumpy reaction.

All was very copacetic with the person in question for awhile, but things took a turn for the worse again last night.

I wasn't expecting this, it being Christmas and all.

What happened to "Silent Night" with all being calm and bright?

My evening was more like "strident night, all is wild, all's a blight."

Ho, ho ho.

The thing is, I'm getting tired of the vicissitudes. The rolling back and forth with the waves of other people's dispositions and moods.

I crave equanimity in my own spirit.

And I claim it.

But how? 

After many years in a 12-step program, and even more years in God's boot camp, I'm coming to the realization that, if things are to going to change, the change must begin with me. 

If I'm to break the cycle of reacting and overreacting, grousing and apologizing, expecting and being disappointed - well, then, it's up to me to step off the hamster wheel. To "let the dervishes whirl," as it were. 

I guess I'm a slow learner.

There's a nice little reading in one of the Al-Anon pieces of literature that describes the process of letting go. Of allowing the other person in a relationship to choose his own attitudes and responses and decisions, and not holding him responsible for mine.

I'm thinking this makes a lot of sense.

Long before Al-Anon came along, a smart guy named James, inspired by the Holy Spirit, offered some similar advice:

2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 

3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. 6 But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. 7 For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; 8 he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways...

19 So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; 

20 for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God...

26 If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one’s religion is useless...

7 Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. 8 Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. 

~ excerpts from The Book of James, found in The Bible, 

which consistently tops bestseller lists, despite efforts to eradicate its impact

So, I guess I’ve got some work to do.

But at least I’m in excellent company.

Shadowing the Master

Yesterday was another fine day.

All but the ending, that is.

My priorities were solid. Spent time with the Lord and the body of Christ in prayer and worship. Did what needed to be done, but in the right order. Put Jesus and family first.

But I allowed a "Scrooge" to shake my serenity at the end of the day.

Why does there always have to be a Scrooge stomping around and making everybody miserable?

Maybe for the same reason Caesar and Herod threw their weight around during the first Christmas celebration.

The former did his best to keep Christ's homeland under oppression and taxation that could have ruined day to day life for His parents, had they allowed it. But instead they continued with their lives, preparing for the business of marriage and family building, with the understanding that a sovereign God was in control and in charge of their futures, present circumstances notwithstanding.

The latter took things a step further, using all the resources at his disposal in an effort to make sure the Savior never got a chance to do what He came to earth to do.

Both thugs used their respective power in such a way that kept Jesus's family on the go and even on the run.

Talk about "Bah, Humbug."

Think donkey travel (or foot travel, as some suggest would have been faster because of the ass's reputation for stubbornness) in the final months of pregnancy.

Yours truly spent a few hours on a train and a plane in my ninth month, which gave new meaning to the word "misery." I can only imagine the fun expectant Mary enjoyed on the back of a brute beast (or trekking on pregnancy-swollen feet) for days on end.

Think midnight flight to another country with a toddler, on pain of death.

True, He was the Son of God, but still.

The Bible says a servant is no greater than his master. So why should I expect my Christmas to be all glittery and magical when His was full of disadvantage and death threats?

Kind of puts things in a different perspective.

"Most assuredly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him."  

-  John: 13:16