Totally Random Gadget

Faith. Food. (In)Fertility.

Saturday, March 30, 2013


It's hard being an adult and seeing the big picture of a whole scenario when they can't. I have a good instinct, and I'm usually right. It's hard to put myself back to age 17 to relate to what kids go through. I don't want to. I don't want to excuse behavior I know is inappropriate just because I was a kid once and I know what kids do and how they think and how they behave.  I know more now, I have wisdom and experience and morals and a totally different world view. I wish I could implant WHAT I KNOW into others.  Not "what I think" or "what I suspect." What I know. I am unable and unwilling to go back in time, to put myself in that neurologically immature place of teen-aged  ignorance just to be able to "lighten up" and "relate" so "they like me." I wish I could spare them the agony they will inevitably cause themselves. I can't. And I'm frustrated.

If you're a teenager and you're reading this, no disrespect. The truth is that you really have no clue, but you think the evil grownups have no clue. You think that you are smarter and more clever than we are. You think we're idiots. You think you are entitled to whatever you want.  You think you are sneaky and you think you escape discovery.  You think you are immortal. The hard reality is that you do not have the capacity to understand adults because you lack what we have: a lifetime twice or three or four times the length of yours.  You lack empathy, experience, and quite frankly, the neural connections to wrap your minds around how we love you, and what a mess you are going to make of things when you disrespect us, because you are convinced that we are the idiots, and you are the geniuses.  You just don't get it.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I won't even charge you for this one, it's on me: You have no hindsight. But we do. Or maybe you have a little bit, but ours is miles long, while yours is mere inches.  You're totally myopic, in fact.  Again, no disrespect.  You don't get it, and you won't get it until you are an old person (you know, like 30 or 40) or have your own children.  Here's another freebie: I have a sneaking suspicion that grandparents know even more than parents.

OK, rant to teens done. You are all excused. Let the pity party commence.

I feel a wee bit of bitterness today.  I'm stewing in pathetic self-loathing. I feel used and disrespected and totally unimportant.  My heart loves and aches at the same time.  I'm an afterthought.  It's wretched.  I could be over-reacting, but my head is a noisy place.  Please, listen to me.  Please, understand that I know what's best! Please, understand what I've done for you!  Please, let me love you!  It's all I want. Let me love you! Let my love be enough for you! How can the love of brief, fleeting pleasures and material things be more important and special that what I have to give you?! How do you not see it or feel it, in everything I've done and would do for you!?

Just over 2000 years ago, the fundamental event of Christianity happened, and tomorrow we rejoice in it.  Sadly, in the wake of the celebration of Christ's resurrection, I'm having difficulty focusing on anything but myself!  Could I be feeling, on some minuscule level, what our Heavenly Father feels for us, His children? For me?  Does His heart ache for me and love me at the same time? Does He want what's best for me and to bless me, despite that I continuously err and live in my own nearsighted ignorance?  Does the Lord feel like the afterthought?

Forgive me, Lord. 2000 years ago, You suffered and died, even knowing that You would be the afterthought.  For me. For me, You bled and died so I could be free. You knew I would repeatedly be a disrespectful, disobedient teenager and reject you again and again. And yet, You suffered and died for me, and love me unconditionally.  Thank you, Lord.  Thank you, that 2000 years ago, give or take, You never made me an afterthought.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Game Changers

The iron is out, and the cat is in.  Never mind that cats don't move me, (though nor do irons, as a rule,) but I liked the iron game piece in the classic Monopoly game. It had a flat surface that made cruising towards "GO" easier, especially for those slightly OCD people that want their game pieces to stand upright. I wonder how much time we idiosyncratic Monopoly players will waste trying to keep the cat upright? The Battleship better watch its back. I hear the Apache helicopter is waiting in the wings.

The post office announced that they are no longer delivering Saturday mail, except for important packages. Is this sad to anyone else? It seems to be just one more step in the slow decline of everything that seems good and right.  Soon, will all be obese, sitting in chairs all day, living and working completely via our gadgets and remote controls, like in Wall-E? Push a button for this, beam that. I don't know why, but it hits me in a weird place in my gut.

Topping out the list of the Top 5 biggest game changers of my life is my salvation through faith in Christ.  The other four things rotate in their importance.  Always there, usually around 2nd or 3rd place, is my inability to have children. The one year anniversary of my hysterectomy came and went, uneventfully. Of course I thought of  it, but I didn't cry or wallow, or post it on Facebook.  I've reevaluated my attention seeking behaviors.  Everyone moves on, as have I. Mostly.  Today, it's on my mind, but not in a bad way.

Not unlike having to play Monopoly with a *GASP* cat on the board, or *FAINT* no mail on Saturdays, living without the possibility of giving birth, while severely traumatic for a time, is just another blip. I've grown used to it, and have tremendous gratitude for all of the blessings since one of the worst days of my life.  No more physical pain. No worrying about planning vacations around pain and blood loss.  Not having to see my husband's distraught face when he couldn't console me and sat helplessly while I'd scream and writhe in agony for hours, several days per month. Instead, sex doesn't hurt, now, I have significantly less mood swings and lost work. I'm not stuck anymore, emotionally, in "woe is me" land.  Mike and I can come and go as we please, and are not bound by day care, diapers, croup, ear infections, or heaven forbid, Radio Disney.  I can't even say that I'd trade it all for a baby at this point. How's that for honest?

I'm at that place, post-hysterectomy, where I can live.  God knows what's best for me, and I thank Him for that.

Blessings! ~ Laura Story