Several loving people in my life have kindly or not so kindly pointed this out to me. The first was my piano teacher in sixth grade. I developed a habit of showing up for my piano lesson in a grouchy mood. My lesson was at 6:30 on Thursday, right after Mr. Patterson's dinner hour. He would come into the studio with his coffee and sit down in his chair ready to go. I pouted. One evening he finally said, "Sara, I'm sick of it. I come down here every Thursday, happy to see you and you are in a bad mood. You need to change that or I am going to have to talk to your parents about continuing your lessons." Whoa. Because I knew he loved me, I realized that he was right. I needed to get over it. I don't even remember why I pouted. I made an honest effort to be my cheerful self again.
The second person who enlightened me in this regard was my own father. At 16 I was pouting because I had to mow the lawn instead of spending the afternoon with my friends. I really pouted. His exact words to me, and I remember them clearly were, "Sara, don't bitch. It doesn't become you." My shock at his uncharacteristic use of profanity, coupled with the comparison of my mood to my beauty (which at 16 I was very self conscious about) had another profound effect on me. I turned it around. If being "bitchy" was ugly, I better not be that. . .
When Calvin was 13 months old and STILL not taking an afternoon nap, I was getting pretty strung out. A child simply can't wake up at 5:00 a.m. every morning and not be ready for a nap. He was strung out and tired too but wouldn't give it up. He would cry in his crib and never go to sleep. After the non-nap was over I would get him and he would be a basket case the rest of the day. I wanted the day to be over. Start again tomorrow. This went on for a long time. One afternoon I broke down crying, just as our babysitter was arriving. Sixty year old Maggie, who raised six children--one as a single working mother--took me aside. I thought she would hug me and tell me she understood how difficult parenting can be. Nope. She said, "You better get it together. You are the parent here. Come on now." Yeah. Okay. I can do that.
I guess there are always going to be big things and little things that make us full of self pity. Sometimes we need compassion. Sometimes we need a kick in the butt.
I've been pretty grouchy toward God the last two years, on account of Him allowing my Dad to get sick and die. I've received a lot of compassion on this account. I needed that. But it might be time for the kick in the butt. It came in two forms this week.
The first was a speaker we had for Suzuki Piano Teacher's Guild. She gave a presentation of "The Art of Creative Visualization." The main point was that we have to visualize ourselves succeeding. At the piano, at a sport, at life. I visualized myself going through my day patient and tolerant toward my children and husband. Getting my work done with a happy heart. Etc. etc. etc. Circumstances are given. Mood is chosen. I know this to be true because my circumstances are very blessed and yet at times I'm still dark. Mood is chosen.
The second reminder to me was a devotion from My Utmost for His Highest, by Oswald Chambers. This is not a warm fuzzy feel good devotion book. This is a kick you in the butt devotion book. May 16th reads:
If we give way to self-pity and indulge in the luxury of misery, we banish God's riches from our own lives and hinder others from entering into His provision. No sin is worse than the sin of self-pity, because it obliterates God and puts self-interest upon the throne. It opens our mouths to spit out murmurings and our lives become craving spiritual sponges, there is nothing lovely or generous about them.That's pretty stern language. Today it works for me. The final quote of the page is, "Be stamped with God's nature, and His blessing will come through you all the time." We talk about happy hearts all the time. Being cheerful is a habit. Habits take time to develop but this one it worth it.
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