Yertle the Turtle Days

Where one hiccup cascades until all comes falling down.
Today, a Bible verse:
But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him** who loved us. 

This verse is a triumph, which I felt was needed today. Everything seemed to go wrong and I suspect tomorrow will feel the aftershock.
sometimes I wonder how much Christ is like my father or my mother, walking behind me and sweeping up and forgiving me my mistakes; shaking his/her** head at my foolishness; praying I choose wisely at each juncture, but not forcing me in a direction; celebrating with me in my accomplishments and holding me in defeats.  It is a testament to the quality of my parenting that I can even make such a comparison.
Yet, how awful a child I can sometimes be. I argue and whine and fight and disagree, just because I can't see clearly, and how could I possibly be wrong? And there are days when I forget things for work (like how I forgot to bring home my iPod and samsung media player for programming), and I panic and run around in frantic terror until God shows me another way. Or days when I inadvertently delete a large portion of the database for work, and am pretty sure I'll be annihilated on the spot,  or where my fever breaks a million and I can't sleep for weeks.
As awful as I am in the bad times, I suspect I'm probably worse in the easy times.
There are tough days, but they never last forever.
There are bright days; these, too, will pass.




**I'm a bit of a wimpy feminist. That is to say, I'm a feminist, but I haven't done much about it because I'm spineless. Punching someone out over my beliefs is on my bucket list, but it's at the end, in case I get punched out afterwards and the rest of my dreams are prematurely terminated. However, I hate gender pronouns when it comes to God. I wish I could invent a new one, but it seems disrespectful inventing gender pronouns for divinity (especially lousy ones). Sometimes I switch off between his and her to keep people on their toes. Sometimes, I use both at the same time. When I'm quoting, I just leave it, even if it makes me grumpy.


0.2v
painted shell with legs, you've no hope
to dislodge the bird riding your back.
ferry him across muddy waters,
stomp up the beach while he preens.
ah, friend yertle, the turtle king
if king ye be, and I were thee
I'd bear the weight of eternity
and all the world, not just one bird,
and harbor this, my secret identity -
or maybe whine indefinitely