jakorte's blog

Sometimes, relaxation music stresses me out.
Come to think of it, sometimes Reggae makes me angry.
Yet, angry heavy metal music can make me very, very happy.

That last revelation probably has something to do with the “Don’t tell ME how to feel, what to do or when to do it!” attitude I’ve always seemed to have. I’ve been working on curbing that for a long time now.

There are some people who have never had the pleasure of seeing that side of me. Then, there are the unfortunate folks who have. Usually, it’s associated with extreme anger; with feelings that have built up inside of me, and then are invalidated by someone. Saying, “Don’t cry,” or “Don’t be upset,” isn’t the best way to handle me. When I make it all the way to the point of crying, it’s usually at least little justified. And I usually do cry when I’m angry, which as you might imagine, usually makes me angrier.

I truly don’t yell. In fact, it wasn’t until after we adopted a 4 month old Jack Russell puppy, that my husband looked at me strangely one day and calmly said, “You know what? I don’t think I’d ever heard you yell until we got a dog.”

Then there was the time, my neighbor asked me to open up my front door and yell across to her house to quickly get her son’s attention. The look on her face was pretty priceless when I told her I don’t yell. I didn’t yell that day, either.

Last night, listening to my Mom and her husband discussing the trials of hooking of their truck and trailer on a sloped campsite, I had to laugh. Mom’s all of 5’2”, speaks very softly, and never yells, either. So, interpreting her petite backing-up directions was a little difficult for him.

She’s got her breaking point, too. And it’s not my favorite thing to experience. Mostly, because I know where she’s at and what she’s had to go through to get to that point. I had a boss like that once, too. Never heard him yell, or raise his voice for any reason. One day, it happened; in a very big way. And even though he wasn’t yelling at me, even though he was behind closed doors, I still cried. Why? Because I was angry that someone could have pushed him to that point, and a bit disappointed that my hero was human, after all.

Listening to GOD is something like that. HE never yells. Yes, I’m often resistant to what I’m hearing. After a while, through patient repeating and gentle steering, whatever the message, it always seems to end-up making so much sense that I don’t know why I struggled so hard to deny it. When the message is disappointing, isn't logical, or isn’t what I want, is when I know I’m about to challenged again. I still drag my feet, sometimes. I still refuse to easily wander where I'm lead, sometimes. And, still, I’ve never yelled at GOD. I’ve cried many angry tears, but I have no angry questions. There is no tortured, “Why?” I am grounded in the reasons I see now. It’s about the paths I’ve been led down, what they all were for, and where I’ve yet to go.

I hope I’m headed towards a maturity of faith. I’m not sure when it will arrive. I’m not readily going to admit I’m desperately open for deeper spiritual challenges. I’ll just keep quietly saying “no” to GOD’s subtle coaxing, until I am sure I can say “yes” with no doubts.