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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.

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