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Created on: December 11, 2008
I confess-I am a fixer. You name a problem and I will gnaw on it like a zombie on a leg bone until I have uncovered the happy solution, which I used to believe always rested at the heart of any conundrum. I struggle hard to find solutions, you see, because if I don't, inner peace eludes me completely. Fretting takes over my whole body in little, sneaky ways, and works its poison into me: an ache here, a frustration there, a scowl, an accusation, or maybe a bad night's sleep. The list goes on until I solve the dilemma currently in front of me, and I am at peace. At least until the next one introduces itself.
Today, I know that some difficulties don't have happy solutions resting inside of them. I know that God DOES sometimes give us more than we can handle. This is by no means a sudden epiphany. It has come slowly over the years, draping itself over my shoulders, sometimes bowing me with its weight.
The winter wind blows, and I know how to open my arms to it so that its chill seems to soften just a bit. But lets be honest here-there are winds that will freeze you to death no matter how you stand, unless you get away from them. Unless you CAN get away from them. For a long time, I found this truth to be a deeply horrific, sobering thought: Some beings' circumstances, God help them, never allow them an opportunity for a good life. I have fretted forever over the inconceivable truth that many children, born into war torn, famine ravaged, insane places, will never have the principles of abundance, the power of positive thinking, or even applied willpower effect a change of their lot in life. And the plight of animals and nature? Well, lets not even go there.
My dear new husband, Carter, is plagued with many chronic, compounding health problems (One of the possible pitfalls of marrying when you are more than half a century old). Our days are dictated by what he can and can't do in any given hour. For the past year or more, our weeks have revolved around doctor visits. Our future plans are geared toward managing health crises. This dilemma has no happy resolution at its core. Granted, we don't live in a refugee camp, nor are we beaten and starved daily, but it is still a difficult, unending challenge for both of us. I am certain that you all have your own capes of difficulty pulled around your shoulders, or had, or will have.
Certainly, we bring much of the calamity of life down upon us by our decisions and choices along the way, but many of our trials are not of our
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