Save the Jackals!
Update:
It has come to my attention that the following details of my story were incorrect.
Accordingly, I have obtained a new phone.
:)
But first, a quote: Adopt three-layer of film switch technology, can be used dexterously
This Zero-Wingian beauty hails from the packaging of my new keyboard, made in China.
But on to the topic at hand. Basically, a psychologically disturbed woman followed me onto a Super Shuttle, and then to school. At first I thought her strong Hispanic accent was the source of her communication problems. But then she had a lot of trouble making sense and keeping her story straight. I was eager to be rid of her when we rolled up to the school. God bless her, but I was a bit freaked out. The driver asked if I had everything as I disembarked. I said yes.
The woman got out after a piece. She said something less than coherent about someone losing a cell phone, then made a violent sound and I heard a CD shatter on the pavement. As a gasoline-powered remote-control car buzzed by, the woman flipped. She was convinced the sound was issuing from the driver’s cell phone, and that it was going to explode. She told him to put it down, and warned me to back away. As I solicited help with my parcels from reluctant bystanders, the woman began to walk off with my suitcase. I ran after her. “Oh, you’re taking that,” she said. She then explained, “This is the wrong address, I know it. Come on.” Eventually, the woman wandered off without paying for her ride. The shuttle driver talked with a Campus Safety officer as he left. My cell phone was still in the van.
Lately it seems like I can’t do anything on my own. More and more, the things I used to do for myself aren’t making the grade anymore. Maybe they never did and I was just too busy working at the next thing to notice. Or maybe I didn’t trust anyone else enough to do them for me. And maybe I’m being so vague that I’m not making a lick of sense.
Mainly I’m talking about the way I respond to difficulties. Call me proud, independent, whatever, but I like figuring things out on my own. Sometimes all the better to get a piece or two of advice to blatantly disregard as I triumphantly conquer my way through life’s difficulties without any help. God never seemed to mind this before. Actually He helped me as I blazed boldly forth, and let me take the credit, though I never noticed His help.
Benjamin Franklin once said God helps them that help themselves. More like, God help those who help themselves, I thought. Then I realised that I fall into this category. I also realised that He does help us. Coz we need it.
God has been challenging me to stop worrying. Something about the question, What am I going to do now? inherently ignores the existence of a God who already knows what we are going to do and is eagerly waiting for me, smiling over me all the while, to ask Him this instead of myself. It’s not like God is saying, Alexander, why don’t you have more faith in Me? Haven’t you read My word? It’s like He’s saying, Alexander, you can do it your way if you want, but eventually you will come to the end of your ability and then you will have to let go and trust Me. You can worry if you want to, but it won’t help you think more clearly.
Maybe I can’t deal with sin on my own anymore either. Maybe I have to trust that He loves me too much to leave me the way I am. And maybe I can’t hear Him on my own either. I don’t think straining my spiritual ears ever did any good anyway. I guess I just have to believe that if He has something to say to me, He’ll say it and I’ll hear. Maybe I can’t obey Him on my own, and have to trust that if I disobey, He’ll still love me help me. I think He already knows everything I’m going to do anyway. Is it possible that He never intended this walk with Him to be as complicated as I make it?