Feeling Sorry For Myself

I look at my husband's plate where a cheeseburger rests, piled high with all the fixings on a fluffy white bun, Doritos AND Cheetos scattered around it. I look at my own and see a hamburger on a thin, wheat bun and a mountain of greens in the bowl next to me. I sigh and say nothing until we're done eating, then chide him about the pie he told his mother to leave after Easter dinner.

"You're the one who wanted it. It's taunting me in the kitchen. I told her she should take it. You better eat that."

He obliges, but when he brings the bowl with the luscious pie heaped with ice cream to the table, I can hardly take it.

"I am so jealous you can eat that. You don't even have to think about it. You eat whatever you want whenever you want. I'm so jealous."

Poor me.

I only get to page three in my new Bible study book when it hits me. This author is good, really good. I suck. Why bother?

Poor me.

My friends are off on Easter getaways taking advantage of some days off school to hang with their families and as a pastor's wife I can never be gone from church on Easter. Ever. I can never blow off Bible study because I need time to catch up at home or skip choir if I don't feel like going.

Poor me.

I force myself to the gym, feeling defeated and melancholy on the ride over. Some people don't put in a minute of exercise and maintain a good shape, a healthy body. Why does it have to be such a struggle for me? Why do I have to kill myself regularly? Must a person always have sore muscles and joints? Why does it have to be so hard?

Poor me.

But while stopped at an intersection on my way to the gym, I see a sweet mentally handicapped woman trying to decide if she should cross the street or wait for me to pass. Just stepping off the curb was a chore for her, but she patiently kept at it. Her walking was labored, yet she pushed ahead smiling, happy to be off to her destination.

And I thought, "What is the matter with you, Tami? Some people have real problems." Reality check.

We all have our issues, our weaknesses, characteristics we wish were different in ourselves, but aren't all placed there for a reason? Don't they make us into the people God intends us to be? What good does it do to whine over them?

What sorrow awaits those who argue with their Creator. Does a clay pot argue with its maker? Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying, "Stop, you’re doing it wrong!" Does the pot exclaim, "How clumsy can you be?"

Isaiah 45:9

Do we anger God with our complaining? In focusing on the things we don't like, do we miss the good things He's given? Wouldn't our energy be better spent working on our weaknesses? Would we feel better accepting the way things are and figuring out how to deal with it?

Shame on poor me. It's time to get busy and quit my bellyaching.

How do you stop feeling sorry for yourself?



Photo Credit: Christian Cable