Blocked Miracles

The new movie Bruce Almighty gives us Morgan Freeman as God (who else!) and Jim Carey as … well, the rest of us.  Which he portrays pretty well, because when things don’t work out, (Carey gets passed over for an anchor job), he gets pissed.  Fuugly (you figure it out) uugly pissed.  And places blame.

Since this is a movie and must be resolved in 90 minutes Carey goes straight to the end of his blame list.  In real life our list would include one or more people who probably do deserve some blame.  Then one or more who don’t, but are included cuz they pissed us in the past.  And finally one or more who don’t belong anywhere near the list but happen to be in the wrong place and/or at the wrong time.  My favorite choice for the latter, because I constantly watch sports, is whatever athlete of the moment is contributing to the loss of MY team.  It’s paternally genetic. Don’t blame me.  J

So at the end of Carey’s list is (forget the should-be choice – the face in the mirror – go for the obvious) – God.

Which makes sense when you think about it.  God’s benevolent, and merciful.  Pretty much has it made because of omnipotence, sovereignty, and perfection.  And face it, after becoming a parent, all that smiting and smoting prevalent in the Old Testament was nipped in the bud.  Anger management.  So there’s a good chance even if we get too ugly, we’ll live.  Which may not happen if we rag our human counterparts.

God makes a safe bet.  And Carey knows that, so he lets him (in the instances where God’s ability is questioned, him is more appropriate than her) have it.

Side note:  Since suppressed anger leads to stress, a leading contributory cause of heart attacks and strokes, I personally consider these moments of “bonding” as charitable therapy.  So go for it.  Big TIME.

“What the heck are you (God) doing?”

“How could you …”?

And the perennial favorite – “Why are you punishing me?  I’ve done nothing!”  Said with righteous indignation.  Which really is the point.  We just don’t get it … yet.

And God quietly tolerates our antics – unlike the movie where he comes down and personally addresses Carey.  Maybe because SHE GAVE US FREE WILL.  Or maybe because she’s “all knowing” and knows whatever we’re really pissed about has nothing to do with her (in instances of wisdom her is more appropriate than him, hence the reverse shift in pronoun).

If you’re now thinking, “I never do that.  I have never gone off on God.”  Get off your self-righteous donkey and be grateful you’ve grown in grace.  Either that or you’re a hypocrite.  Sorry.  (No I’m not.)

But the quiet tolerance …  There is nothing worse than fighting with someone who refuses to fight.  Because it’s not a fight.  You just look crazier than you are.  Which brings up greater levels of pissiness and more quiet tolerance.  And we get more fuugly uugly.  Still not getting it.  Still giving it, until we get to our ultimate weapon – “Well, forget you.  You’ve forgotten me.  I’m forgetting you.  Forget you!  Forget you!  Forget you!”  Which is immediately followed by the earthly trinity – self-pity, sadness, and depression.

“Why can’t I ever get a break?”  We whine.  We wanted our miracle and it didn’t happen.  Again.  If there’s a moment of sanity left in our brain (yeah, right!), this is another good moment to connect the dots.  ISOLATE THE SINGLE FACTOR CONSISTENT IN THIS MADNESS!  And don’t dare say – God, she’s everywhere.  Smart donkey.

Don’t know it?  Keep reading.

Nine miners are trapped beneath the earth, 240 feet, 72 hours.  One by one they come up … alive.

An eighteen-year-old girl wakes up from a car-induced coma after giving natural birth to her baby girl.

Miracle (n) – a surprising and welcoming event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency.  The New Oxford Dictionary.

Miracle (n) – a prayer to a divine agency asking for something, since she says, “ask and it shall be given.”  (Don’t forget the Bible was used to validate the institution of apartheid!)  Often to solely benefit the asker who feels but for the work of a divine agency, the event cannot occur, and the asker’s life forever wronged.  The People’s Definition

Sometimes life spirals out of control.  Everything we touch infects with such vile karma that nothing, absolutely nothing, turns out right.  We are so tired that every bone aches from the burden we carry.  It is at these moments that prayer to the divine asks for respite.  .

Sometimes things just don’t seem fair.  As if it should be, said the charging bull to the vegan.  Overall, our lives are fine.  We just need … to get over the hump.  Make our lives – perfect.  “We’re not asking for much, divine one.  Just a little help.”

Sometimes we just want.  Cuz we want it.  We know we’re good so surely we won’t be denied.  “So please, Ms. Divine.  Just this one time.  Oh, and thank you,” before we run off to the next “it” moment.

The solution to these situations does not come close to what the miners or the comatose girl experienced.

Their end results were truly miracles.  Sure some scientific person can probably provide a theoretical explanation, and that’s fine.  And maybe true.  But last time checked in to determine who or what came first, divinity or a bang, bang can’t prove it did and divinity doesn’t have to.  AMEN.  Amen.

Most (did not say all) circumstances of our life are of our creation through the exercise of that free will.

So why do we expect divine intervention for our mess-ups?

Especially when we don’t always remember to say thank you for the successes.

It makes no sense – crown ourselves for what we get, but blame God for what we miss.

We waste so much energy and so much more time being irresponsible and not responsible.  Guilty.

We go through life blaming others, including the divine one, for our misfortune.  Guilty.  Guilty.

We expect others to give us what we are unwilling to work to give to our self.  Guilty.

We refuse to give to the world but just keep on waiting for the world to give to us.  Most guilty of me.

If we used just a little bit of that pissiness energy as achievement energy, just imagine … our life now.

Not preaching to you, talking to myself.

That’s why I don’t always hear those answers.  I already have them.

She knows it.  She waits for me to know it.

Told you, talking to myself.

My biggest enemy is never some faceless person or our parents or our bosses.  Yeah, they’re crap.  Full of crap.  Some of the worst smudge on the face of the earth.  J

But they can never hurt me or give me more than I can hurt or give myself.

Realizing that – was a divine miracle.

Doing something about it – is my miracle.

Back to you.

If you think you can’t do some of your own miracles, cuz – you just can’t…

LISTEN.

Forget believing you are not a wonderful person.  You are.  You’re not perfect.  Heck you screw up more than most people.  And some of the crap you’ve done and some of the idiots in your life will be there for the rest of your life.  Can’t do anything about that.  If you try, the latter is a crime, in every state by Louisiana.

But despite all that, in spite of all that, you’re pretty daggone wonderful.

Okay, so I don’t know you.  Trust me, I know myself.  And if I slowly learned, surely you can do better.

Don’t think I can’t, I’m not like …  been there, done that.  Those folks are crazy and fronting and one dirty toenail from imploding from their own self-importance.  So skip them.

I think I see a small smile.

Today I will not block my miracles.

Today I will not block my miracle.

Today I will not block me.

P.S.  After writing this my office pissed me off … again.  Translation, they’re acting wrong.  And I got royally pissed.  And ranted, and raved.  For hours (told you I wasn’t all that).  But considering I used to do it for days.  Considering I remembered I put myself in the situation so I could be wronged (doesn’t excuse them, but doesn’t make me blameless).  Considering I let it go, then took it back, let it go, slept okay, then had a nightmare, then let it go, then dealt with it (including divinity in the process).  Considering it’s now a past tense – in less than eighteen hours.  Miracles do occur.