<</div>Welcome To My Attic. Just Brush the Bats Aside.
I just can't figure it out.
At the risk of sounding like a self-indulgent schizophrenic, I'm tired of trying to make sense of it all. My last couple of posts sound like someone who has spent a little too much time 'off in the upper story,' if you know what I mean. I'm ready to lay my angst at the feet of Jesus instead of beating my brains out in the attic of my insanity. There are bats in my belfry. They simply must go.
For the last month, I've been in the process of seeking a full-time accounting job, figuring I could do our business books on the weekends. Blogging through the process is my way of letting go of my writing. Kind of a last hurrah. I don't understand why God would hold open the door for the dream of my heart, only to let it smack me on the rear moments later. I was hoping that studying Ecclesiastes, a book of wisdom, would shed some light on my darkness.
Shockingly, it seems the long-dead author perfected the art of whining! All this time I thought it was me. I won't say there are no answers in the book, but hope is in very short supply. Then it hit me- I wasn't looking for answers. I was looking for hope.
Jesus Christ has brought hope to my life since the day I met Him. To accept the gift and fold it gently into my heart, I must believe that today's circumstances are not forever, and His purposes and plans cannot be thwarted. He is faithful to all His promises, and loving toward all He has made. (Psalms 145:13 NIV)
So where does that leave me, in the light of today? Do I give up writing now because I know the end is coming anyway? Fifty-four years into the process of living, what I have learned about what to do when I have no idea of what's coming?
I have learned to do the next right thing. Do what's in front of me. Pray hard and trust God. Don't drink or drug. Read my Bible, go to church, take care of my family, love my friends. Enjoy the beauty of Colorado in June, count my blessings, and thank the Lord for giving me life.
Finally, I must remember to laugh. It's okay to laugh, even when my dreams are dashed and my daughter's dead and my teeth are falling out. All these things have come to pass, and still I'm tickled by God's sense of humor, in His ironic response to my plea for understanding.
It was The Teacher, the author of Ecclesiastes, who found the same answers to his pain, the futility of his existence. He lamented that wisdom is meaningless, money doesn't buy happiness, nobody recognized his hard work, and life isn't fair. He mourned because he couldn't figure God out, none of his worldly pursuits satisfied the hunger in his soul, and we're all going to die anyway.
Twelve chapters of moaning and groaning later, his words carry through the centuries to those of us seeking meaning in our days under the sun: "So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 8:15-16 NIV)
God reveals His subtle wit in a simple gesture: He exposes me to myself. The revelation lays bare all my commonalities with the long-dead teacher, whom I judged to be a wealthy, spoiled malcontent who just happened to get lucky with his publisher.
I guess he wasn't such a whiner after all.
At the risk of sounding like a self-indulgent schizophrenic, I'm tired of trying to make sense of it all. My last couple of posts sound like someone who has spent a little too much time 'off in the upper story,' if you know what I mean. I'm ready to lay my angst at the feet of Jesus instead of beating my brains out in the attic of my insanity. There are bats in my belfry. They simply must go.
For the last month, I've been in the process of seeking a full-time accounting job, figuring I could do our business books on the weekends. Blogging through the process is my way of letting go of my writing. Kind of a last hurrah. I don't understand why God would hold open the door for the dream of my heart, only to let it smack me on the rear moments later. I was hoping that studying Ecclesiastes, a book of wisdom, would shed some light on my darkness.
Shockingly, it seems the long-dead author perfected the art of whining! All this time I thought it was me. I won't say there are no answers in the book, but hope is in very short supply. Then it hit me- I wasn't looking for answers. I was looking for hope.
Jesus Christ has brought hope to my life since the day I met Him. To accept the gift and fold it gently into my heart, I must believe that today's circumstances are not forever, and His purposes and plans cannot be thwarted. He is faithful to all His promises, and loving toward all He has made. (Psalms 145:13 NIV)
So where does that leave me, in the light of today? Do I give up writing now because I know the end is coming anyway? Fifty-four years into the process of living, what I have learned about what to do when I have no idea of what's coming?
I have learned to do the next right thing. Do what's in front of me. Pray hard and trust God. Don't drink or drug. Read my Bible, go to church, take care of my family, love my friends. Enjoy the beauty of Colorado in June, count my blessings, and thank the Lord for giving me life.
Finally, I must remember to laugh. It's okay to laugh, even when my dreams are dashed and my daughter's dead and my teeth are falling out. All these things have come to pass, and still I'm tickled by God's sense of humor, in His ironic response to my plea for understanding.
It was The Teacher, the author of Ecclesiastes, who found the same answers to his pain, the futility of his existence. He lamented that wisdom is meaningless, money doesn't buy happiness, nobody recognized his hard work, and life isn't fair. He mourned because he couldn't figure God out, none of his worldly pursuits satisfied the hunger in his soul, and we're all going to die anyway.
Twelve chapters of moaning and groaning later, his words carry through the centuries to those of us seeking meaning in our days under the sun: "So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 8:15-16 NIV)
God reveals His subtle wit in a simple gesture: He exposes me to myself. The revelation lays bare all my commonalities with the long-dead teacher, whom I judged to be a wealthy, spoiled malcontent who just happened to get lucky with his publisher.
I guess he wasn't such a whiner after all.
Posted by Rachel Ophoff at 6/25/2010 7:55 PM 
Categories: Death of a Child, Jesus, God, Christian, Joy, Faith, Alcoholic, Addict, Christian Writer, The Bible, Hope, Trust, Prayer, Sobriety, Acceptance, Christian Blogger
Tags: Christian Jesus God Hope Faith Alcoholic Addict Bible Sobriety trust
Categories: Death of a Child, Jesus, God, Christian, Joy, Faith, Alcoholic, Addict, Christian Writer, The Bible, Hope, Trust, Prayer, Sobriety, Acceptance, Christian Blogger
Tags: Christian Jesus God Hope Faith Alcoholic Addict Bible Sobriety trust
Rachel-I loved it! You hooked me in with your FB "quiz" and I loved your blog. Talent! And of course, I love your message. God is our portion!
Love,
Annie
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