Hey God, it’s me your favorite long-winded whiner.
I don’t know how things are up in the wild blue yonder, but down here in the chaos of life, I think I need to flag you like a football referee. Here is my call— personal foul #2020 excessive piling on.
God, in case you haven’t figured out from all of your years of work, you are an easy target. You are blamed for many things, and probably unfairly.
Let me start my pity party list of whines for you.
While the MOHS surgery to remove a skin cancer on the top of my left hand was successful, my insurance company disappointed me with their coverage.
My 2005 Toyota Highlander did not pass state inspection—a leaking strut and one of the engine mounts is failing.
At work, struggles between turf and personalities in the pursuit of changing a few things has created a tension. God, you might recall I work for a church. I didn’t think churches were supposed to have tension with turf and personalities.
My work keeping an eye on the Wesley Foundation college campus facilities for the Virginia Conference of the United Methodist Church is about to drive me bonkers. That’s all about pennies—there aren’t enough.
And, if word hasn’t reached you yet, you know that the United Methodist Church is in turmoil too. It appears that my life long church is about to become very skilled at hurting people. That seems to be a direct contrast to what your son tried to teach us.
My wife of almost 45 years tells me that she has never seen me so grumpy.
I think I have a right to be grumpy—it’s the pile on, plus I’m a natural born worrier.
My guess God is that you are a worrier too.
As you look down upon us, your fists are probably white-knuckled, your jaw is clinched, your brow is furrowed with uncountable worry wrinkles, your antacid doesn’t work, and I can only imagine what you are silently muttering.
George Harrison was right in his song “Isn’t It A Pity”: “Now, isn’t it a shame, how we break each other’s hearts and cause each other pain.”
God, I would imagine that your heart is just about broke.
So, I’ll stop my whine. Thanks for listening, you’ve heard enough.
It’s ok if you keep piling on me because sometimes in the pile on there is good.
I’m thankful for the scoreboard technicians from Roanoke who were able to get our Upward basketball scoreboard working again.
I’m appreciative of a kind word from a church friend who understands the need for change.
I love the vision of a Wesley Foundation campus leader who is thinking out of the box for a sustainable future.
I’m thankful that my wife is still hanging around a grumpy husband.
And God, I’m thankful that you haven’t given up on me— although I’m sure I drive you nuts too.
But as I attempt to work through the pile on, I’ll hold on to these words from Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Maybe working through the pile on comes down to what is at the very bottom of the pile—hope.
might be baloney 