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Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I was standing at the urinal...


I was peeing, of course, on one of those little, round, pink urinal cakes. And I was caught in the midst of intense struggle.

How lucky I am to be peeing in a bathroom with a urinal with a urinal cake in it. I'm not peeing in the same water I drink. I am peeing in a bathroom with indoor plumbing that takes that pee water away to a waste treatment plant that purifies it all before recirculating it. On top of that, I'm peeing on something we buy with the church budget to make the smell of my own piss not bother me. I'm peeing on an aromatic urinal cake.

Then I walked back to my office and sat down at my desk. I hate this freaking laptop that I use here. Its slow--really slow. I think there might be something wrong with the hand-crank on it that you use to start it up.

How lucky I am to have a laptop to blog and write emails and network on facebook and read political posts online.

I struggle with all of this... intensely.

I struggle.

I hate--HATE--saying that I'm grateful for being so blessed.

I hate that word lately: blessed.

Why am I so blessed? Why are we so blessed? Why do billions of people have to drink their own pee water because they don't have a sewer system or water treatment facility or a clean water well? Why do billions of people live in such extreme poverty? Why do 50,000+ people die every day from lack of food and water. Why am I so blessed?

To hell with "blessed." To hell with it...

I'm so angry today.

At myself.

At you.

At the world.

At humanity.

At God.

I don't get it all. So many unanswered questions leave a gaping hole in my heart. I don't even know how to pray anymore. Because I don't want to thank God for how blessed I am in light of the suffering of so many. Because I don't want to say I'm grateful that I have the life I have at the expense of others.

All this because of a urinal cake.

I hope someone understands...

2 comments:

Jennifer of Dog.Yarn.Knit. said...

I wrestle with this, too, at times. Why was I "chosen" to be born in America? To really awesome parents? But, at the same time, I hate the word "lucky". I can't use it. I can't say, "I am so lucky." Because I think about the Book of James (and not just b/c we're in the midst of Faith That Works right now). I think of "Whatever is good and perfect comes down to us from God our Father". Whatever is GOOD and PERFECT. It's a mystery. It's one of those things that I have just almost had to give up on understanding until I get to have a face to face with Jesus. I don't believe that God brings us suffering. He didn't cause my car accident. My back problems. The horrible, agonizing pain I was in the last week of October. My drop foot, fractured ankle... All I know is that He has used those things for good - for my benefit and the benefit of others. He worked things out - He gave me things I needed to see me through those times. He gave me people to help me through and open doors for me. Why did Keela Fee have to have cancer. And not get better? Why did she have to die when others get to live? This brings me back to the first chapter of James again, "When troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy". These aren't meant to be Sunday school answers. They are just the things I rely on - that I have to rely on. How it all works...I dunno. I don't get it.

What I do know is this. I, for one, HATE the smell of urinal cakes.

Sheffield said...

Flipping urinal cakes!

I don't have to know that you feel blessed or thankful for me, just as long as you don't piss on me I'll know we're good.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that in the midst of all those questions you can at least know it makes me happy that you and I have a better relationship than the one you share with the urinal cake.