Harry and Andrea

So, today I had one of those mornings.  It started when I overslept–because cold mornings and a warm, cozy bed are a weakness of mine.  I finally dragged myself out of bed half-awake (or half-asleep, I guess, depending on your glass) and forgot to put the lid on the blender when I was making the smoothie.  Needless to say, I made a mess.  Everything was in slow motion and my stomach was acting a little unsettled.  So, I opted to wait awhile on breakfast and let it calm down–despite the fact that I am prone to grouchiness on an empty stomach.  When Harry left for work, I was hurriedly trying to wrap a birthday present to mail to a friend who’s turning 30 this weekend.  Of course I cut the paper too short and I didn’t have time to re-cut more.  Perfectionism reared it’s ugly head, but I pushed it back (albeit it to just below the surface to simmer) and let it be.  A few minutes later, I threw myself together, while forcing myself to adhere to a strict, self-inflicted schedule and therefore, growing anxious by the minute.  (Somehow, I actually did remember my mascara today and I think my clothes actually matched.)

I walked outside to get something out of the car that I needed to do before I could leave and realized that there was frost on the windshield.  I brilliantly decided to go ahead and start the car (that was already on E and desperate for gas) so that it would be warm and frost-free once I was ready to leave.  When I went back inside to print the maps I needed before I could start my work day, I got an error message from the printer:  out of ink.  I called my personal technology guru–my husband, of course–and realized that we have a stash of ink cartridges for just such a time as this!  The only one in there?  Cyan.  VERY different from LIGHT cyan, I guess.  After practically hanging up on Harry in my anxiety-driven-grouchy-empty-stomach-frustratingly-imperfect-self, I spent the next 30 minutes or so trying to figure out how to get my maps to print.  Clearly I didn’t need light cyan to print out directions from point A to point B.  But apparently, we have the kind of printer that refuses to print in grayscale even when it’s got plenty of black, but is out of light cyan.

About the time that I finally get all of the directions copied down by hand, breakfast downed and all my things together to walk out the door (about 20 minutes later than I wanted to be), I stop and think Why can’t I hear the car anymore? I say mean things to myself (because that’s what I do when I’m by myself and things don’t go the way I think they should go) and walk outside to discover that God has been merciful.  Miraculously ,the car-that-was-on-E-before-it-started-and-should-have-been-well-out-of-gas by now is still running after 30 minutes and had conserved enough gas to even make it to the nearest gas station.  I’m thinking that my luck has turned when the pump stops and I see one of the messages that frustrates me more than any other:  “Cashier has receipt.”   WHAT???  No, people, I don’t pay at the pump so that I can go inside the store and get my receipt.  I pay at the pump so that I can get on my way as quickly as possible.  And how does the gas pump, or the cashier, or the gas company always know when I’m late?  That’s the only time this happens!  I mean, I could have left without getting a receipt, but then I would never have remembered to record it and that would have sent me over the edge–you know because I’m clearly calm and collected now.

Well, I was in the car by myself a lot today.  So, I had a lot of time to think.  I remembered that I had been reading in Jonah and came across something that I wanted to process some more.  The word “provided.”  In one version I read, God “provided” a fish to swallow Jonah, a vine to give him shade, a worm to eat the vine and uncomfortable, hot weather conditions to make him miss the vine.  (In another version, the word is “appointed,” which is even cooler, in some ways.)  Ultimately, God provided opportunities for Jonah to acknowledge Him–to turn his attention from his own selfish desires and know Him.  I think this is a picture of God’s mercy as well as His discipline.

So, now when I look back on my morning (instead of feeling like nearly everything that could go wrong did), I realize that God provided an ink-less printer, an upset stomach, a nearly empty gas tank, and a slightly inconvenient gas station experience.  He provided it ultimately to take my eyes off of myself, to convict me of my idol of control and perfectionism, and to refocus my eyes on Him.  That’s merciful!  And that’s my God.