Friday, November 4, 2011

I blame me

In life I have found that people tend to constantly seek and find people to place blame on. It’s an instinctual habit that we learn at an early age in life. I didn’t do it, she did! The natural answer to our parent’s question of Who did this is most always Not me and we almost immediately narc and blame whoever is around at the time. I am discovering the older that I get, old habits die hard. As an adult, I still encounter this inherent need to blame others. Whether I am doing the blaming or someone is blaming me. We all deal with it no matter what our age is.
This week was relatively excellent. Kylee has turned over a new leaf, or so it seems. Her attitude is changing, she is responding to me less explosively, she is respecting me and obeying me. Logan has discovered his voice and is not afraid to use it. But behind all good things lurks the enemy, waiting to kill, steal and destroy. I blame myself for allowing him to be successful last night. Not The X Man, Hannah Montana, the Ex-MIL not my lawyer. But me.
My 5 year old informed me of something that I am sure I was never supposed to know about and something that only reaffirmed my every doubt in her father. A tsunami of anger, frustration, disappointment, shock and fed-up-ness engulfed me. The questions my 5 year old had were completely unanswerable without implying things about her daddy that I would rather her find out on her own.
Of course I immediately addressed the latest issue with the X Man and received the same humdrum, predictable response. Relax, it’s no big deal. Stop over-reacting. Sorry you don’t agree…. Same ole same ole.
I set myself up for a 2 vs. 1 fight. I pursued a third party for help which I now know was a wasteful attempt. An I should’ve known better type of outcome. But nonetheless, I blame me. Every enemy you face requires some kind of fuel to keep pursuing you. They need to know that their attacks are causing damage and pain in order to keep putting forth effort on you, their prey. I provided the fuel last night. I willingly handed it over. I could have seeked God’s presence in the crappy situation I was in and asked for His words for a response. I could have prayed. I could have stopped to take deep breathes, I could have done things differently. Instead I answered with my flesh and feelings and allowed Satan to operate my thumbs as the texts steadily went out, one after the other. Insult after insult. I used very private details as daggers and threw them with unrelenting force.
I always begin and end my days in prayer. I usually pray after the chaos of the night simmers down. After dishes and Dino Dan, after baths and books, and teeth are brushed and hair is combed. I nestle into my bed and pray out loud. Last night I found myself on my knees. Which is really more symbolic than necessary. I like to reflect on the events of my day and find and recognize God’s presence in every circumstance.  It’s humbling to see just how available He was but I was too busy reloading my mouth to fire off bullets of pain.
 As I prayed for forgiveness, I had plenty of regrets on tap and repented for each one. I humbled myself and acknowledged the steps I had taken that did not glorify His name but rather fueled Satan’s bonfire of hate.  Asking God to reveal His truth is sometimes difficult to encounter. Especially when the truth is that I conducted myself the opposite of the way a Christian should. I profess faith in Jesus Christ and I aim to be Christ-like. But I failed last night. And the pain that accompanies letting down my Father has a lingering sting that doesn’t get relieved quickly. If not for times of trial and scrutiny, when will our faith be tested? In times of joy and happiness? Unlikely. In the midst of controversy we don’t see the great opportunity in front of us to be salt and light to the world. We see the potential to hurt one who has hurt us. We see a chance for justice and revenge. Something Christ never seeks.
I am still recovering from the hangover of guilt that accompanies my choices from last night. I’m finding a lot of peace, humbleness, hope and joy in the action of grabbing my blame by the balls. Ultimately, blame doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make you a happier person knowing who is truly at fault for something. It only draws attention to the injustice in your life and ignites the anger in your heart.
I am hoping this post will hold me accountable to my new goals.
·         Let go of blame
·         Forgive everyone
·         Respond with love or not at all
I’m certain this goal list will only continue to grow the more trials I face. I am not perfect and thankfully never claimed to be in writing. 
The secret to dissipating anger and resentment is found in forgiveness. Even if it was unrequested, give it anyways. You can’t forgive a person, if you’re still blaming them.
Someone sent this to me today and it was quite timely.
Now, the forgiveness that I hoarded has sprouted inside my heart like a crippled seed yielding bitter fruit.