Why Does Everything Have To Be So Hard?

Why does everything have to be so hard?

We’ve just been up to Vermont for a long weekend of helping mom with settling the estate, doing landscaping, and tending to the to-do lists that keep growing. And while it’s a joy to be able to help, each achievement breeds another two to-dos. We spoke with the new financial planner, yes, but that means having to decide on a new annuity. We moved all the piles of sand from around the property, but that meant we didn’t get to clean out the garage very much. And so on.

Please don’t misunderstand. We wouldn’t have traded the weekend for anything (well, except for seeing dad again, but…), and we really did enjoy seeing everyone. It’s just that there’s always Something Else. We go to file the probate paperwork, only to discover there’s another form with another signature that we have to hunt up… Mary really wishes she could just be up there all the time, there’s that much to do.

I read a devotional recently that got me to thinking about why everything has to be so hard. Doesn’t becoming a Christian mean life gets easier? No, actually, it doesn’t. Salvation makes things better eventually, but the One who died a horrible death on a cross would be the first to say, “I never promised it would be easier.”

And that leads me to wonder: what if all our struggles to find ease and comfort, what if all our efforts to just be free of all our burdens, means we miss out on a bigger point?

What if our problems aren’t meant to drive us to solutions, but rather, into the presence of and a deeper relationship with God?

What if our problems aren’t a source of pain and frustration, but a source of even greater faith?

It’s easy, and wrong, to say that “God won’t give you anything you can’t handle.” It’s wrong because it misses the point: the point of life isn’t to be free of annoyances and frustrations and pain and to-do lists, but instead, to come to know God as provider, as deliverer, as healer…to learn to trust that truth even when we hurt, or it’s not going the way we want it to be.

The whole of the Christian journey is one of abandoning our selves, and with it our own problems and worries, and learning to pursue God in our difficulties, to find He is our relief.

That’s not to diminish the importance of the to-dos. It doesn’t downplay the pain or the frustration. But it does invite us to reframe them, not as something I can achieve, but something with God in which I seek to understand, What is your lesson for me in this, Lord?

This week it’s the estate to-dos. Next week it’s the next year’s budget at work. The week after that, the kids’ school plans for the year. Then after that…?

When will we learn, He is all we actually need?

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Get Over Yourself

Each of us, I suspect, has something that consistently sets us off. There’s something that, whenever it happens, is most likely to bring out the worst in each of us. And when it’s over, we’re left feeling confused–what the heck was that about?–and maybe more than a little guilty. Let me share this story, and see if it rings a bell with anyone.

We’re in the midst of renovating our kids’ bathroom upstairs and the main-level powder room. In an effort to save some money, I agreed with the contractors that I’d undertake some of the work myself. I’ll handle the painting. I’ll install the new towel bars and shower curtain rod. And I’ll swap out the bathroom ceiling fans, one in each room.

Shouldn’t be too hard to swap out a ceiling fan, I thought. Alas. I started on the first one and it became an exercise in frustration. Removing the old fan was a stubborn exercise, as it had become so dust-encrusted that getting to the screws that held it in was nearly impossible, and then learning that the screws were rusted, and stripping as I tried to get it out, made it even worse. Finally it was out, but what was billed as a fan that didn’t need any wallboard trimming was anything but, as I had to saw away another inch of my ceiling to get it in. Now how do I attach the exhaust port to the vent pipe? That’s about when I dropped the fan, and broke the exhaust port…which meant I’m heading back to Home Depot for another one, just before closing time. And trying to screw in the metal housing around the fan became the ultimate straw: the screws just would not go into the wood well, and quickly I found I had stripped those too.

All the while, at each stumbling block, at each frustration, something is screaming at me that I’m SUCH a failure. I manage Federal budgets worth billions of dollars, I have a master’s degree…and I can’t get a simple ceiling fan out? I can’t install a ceiling fan without breaking it, and ruining the screws? Now I’m going to have to call in A Guy to do this right, and it’ll cost me, both dollars and humiliation as he sees my inadequacies. There is NO way I’m going to pay for this! This isn’t rocket science, it’s pretty basic home remodeling…and I’m a failure!
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Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. (Isaiah 41:10)

In retrospect after each such occurrence, I’m always amazed, and yeah, a little convicted by my response. There’s so much wrong with how I approached it. I was already apprehensive when I started, and then each little defeat magnified for me. I started to listen to the voices that tell me I’m not good enough, the same ones that try to tell us we’re never good enough for Jesus. And I certainly didn’t take the problem to Jesus.

It started again a few nights later when I went to work on the other one. This one, too, started to be frustrating from the get-go. This fan’s mounting box wasn’t attached to the rest of the house in the same way that the first one was, at all: it looks like it was attached from the outside, not the inside, and then the ceiling drywall was installed over it. So I’d have to hack apart more of the ceiling to get at it.

This time, I stopped. This time, I said, “It’s not worth it.” This time, I didn’t listen to the voices. This time, my evening didn’t end in frustration.

My bride is always perceptive about these sorts of things. She asked later, “Do you suppose God was trying to get your attention?” Yes, I think he was. I think he wanted me to get over myself: to get past whatever I think I should be able to do, and to recognize what gifts he has, and hasn’t, given me…and to learn a little more humility, to ask for help.

The handyman comes next week to install the new fan.

Love is Patient and Kind

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. (1 Corinthians 13:4-5)

Happy Valentines’ Day!

Before leaving the office, I texted my bride and my daughter to see if I could treat my two valentines to takeout dinner tonight. I received word that S. wanted Panera, and Mary wanted Indian from the place we like in Kingstowne. So I dutifully navigated to Kingstowne to pick up the Indian–man, the traffic was atrocious! It was as if everyone else in Northern Virginia, for some reason, wanted to go out for dinner tonight. Imagine that!

So it took f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get there, and of course the restaurant was mobbed–I couldn’t even get in the front door for a minute. Scooped up the takeout, headed back to the car, and started off for Panera. Now, 99.9% of the time we go to the one in West Springfield, so I drove there, enduring every red light known to man, with our dinner cooling in the back.

Only to find…huh. There’s no order here for us. On texting to find out what was up, only then did I learn…she’d put in the order for the Panera in Kingstowne. Yep, the one about 50 feet away from the Indian place. The one I never think about because we almost never ever go there.

So, backtrack another 15 minutes, park, await food, drive again… It’s late, I’m getting thirsty and hungry, I’m tired after a long day, and I have to backtrack and drive all over because she didn’t tell me which Panera to go to?!?!? Like I’m supposed to read her mind?!?!?

Or…

I can feel Jesus shushing me. This isn’t about you and your inconveniences, you dope. This is about an evening sharing love. And yes, even though everything good gets opposed, the love of your marriage is worth far more than the inconvenience of driving an extra half hour. In these moments of frustration or annoyance, we have a choice: we can react, or we can choose to respond in love.

The Indian was a bit cool by the time we got to it, but it still tasted good. And being able to spend a positive, loving evening together, instead of getting angry or blameful, is worth far more than the ability to be “right,” or to put on an injured face. Because love is patient and kind, and refuses to keep score. And that’s more important in the end.