Time Will Heal

Well, it's been a little over a week since the infamous Game Six of the World Series.  I know that time will heal the hurt, but it's still painful to think about.  I think the players not only physically train for games, but also emotionally and psycologically train as well.  They seem much more resilient than some fans (read: me).  I am already looking forward to next season.  (Although I have been thinking about how I can temper some of my zeal...baseball season is really long.  My family needs to eat, dishes need to get done, laundry ought to be processed.  And in a timely manner.) 

On a totally unrelated note, there was a VERY LARGE ROACH in our bathroom the other afternoon.  I had just used the potty (one day I will say something normal, like restroom) and pumped some soap on my hand and then jumped back as one of the biggest roaches I have yet seen scurried out from behind the faucet handles on the sink.  It is a good thing I had just used the bathroom, otherwise I may have wet my pants.  It stood there on the edge of the sink waving its six inch antennae at me as if to say,"I'm going to get you, my pretty, and your hair brush, too!"  I stood there with soap in my hand, not sure what to do first.  Using the sink was clearly not an option. 

I can't really remember all of what happened next, but it involved a half of a bottle of bleach and some hair spray. 

This roach would not die.  Not even after my Rambo + The Terminator + The Incredible Hulk + steroids assassination attempt.  It still skittered its way up the side of the sink, after LOSING A LEG! IN MY SINK! as though it were going to throw itself over the edge, and possibly charge me.  I finally got a wad of paper towels wet and slammed the wad onto the roach.

If my brother-in-law Bobby had not told me of this trick, I don't know what I would do.  I might still be standing in the bathroom, soap in one palm, bleach in the other hand. 

As it stands, I am sleeping in Eliana's bedroom.  This really helps with her coming to get in our bed in the middle of the night...see?  I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone. 

Killing.  It's what I do these days.

As in, I'm killing off these Oreos.  Who is going to stop me?  No one!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  *Wielding bottle of bleach maniacally*

Okay, so I don't really have a bottle of bleach right now.  But I do have the Oreos, and I am fairly certain that I will regret the decision to have any, much less as many as I have had, later this evening.  Or morning.  Whatever. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about many different things.  Why am I so obsessed with baseball, and my team?  Why do I get soooo bent out of shape when a roach crosses my path, to the point that I can't function like a normal human being?  Why can I not remember all of the things I need to remember in order to accomplish just one, JUST ONE, thing on any given day, whether it's getting what I need at the store, or taking all that I need to take to the class that the girls go to once a week, to checking to make sure Christian has done his daily reading and written about it?  I feel very frustrated most of the time, and angry, too. 

Angry at myself.  Angry at the house.  Angry at Mike.  Angry at the kids.  Angry at God. 

I have heard great sermons lately, sermons that have been part of a series on The Apostle's Creed.  The sermon that our Senior Pastor preached the Sunday that I officially became a member of our church (yes, almost five years later, how is that for accomplishing things in a timely manner?) was the kind of message that left me thinking,"He preached that just for me.  How did he know?"  Mike shared a prayer of confession with me the other night, from the Sanctuary service a couple of weeks ago, that was pretty powerful; it spoke straight to the things that I am struggling with right now.  Namely, being content in all things.  It spoke of Christ's sufferings, how he willingly walked that road.

And I don't want to sleep in my bedroom because of fourteen inch roaches.  (Including the antennae.  I'm telling you, it was huge.)

I don't even know what I am talking about.  I think mainly it's that I can't figure out how it all fits together.  From my OCD to my SIN.  From being content in a house that has roaches to wishing I lived closer to family.  From believing that Christ lived and died and rose again for me to having a very hard time accepting grace (I don't deserve it, you see).  I feel like I'm in a pickle, all the time.

And here we are, back to baseball.  That's why I love the game.

Comments

[Missy DMissy]

I like how SIN is capitalized right next to OCD. My first thought was, what is this SIN? Has it made the DSM-IV? Do I have it? Oh, sighhh. Yes, I do, I do, I do.

[Mindee@ourfrontdoor]

If it helps, I think your reaction to roaches is completely sane and reasonable. :)