Off the Grid, Out of My Mind
No sooner had I finally gotten our two formerly broken printers home than our computer, on its last legs after five years of use, pooped out. Couple this with our land line having unbearable static, and our home is woefully short on connectivity. We're off the grid, and I'm out of my mind.
I have not handled these headaches well. My work/life balance requires being able to check email and do work at 5 in the morning and/or 7 at night. Less than a day into having no computer or Internet at home, Amy and I are both going through withdrawals. I don't have even have any free time during daylight hours to do the outdoor check on my network box that Verizon's automated repair prompt offers as a preliminary troubleshoot.
My primary thought through it all, said through gritted teeth, is: "I don't have time for this." And I don't. Who has time to pick out and set up a new computer, trace the source of a phone line's crackliness, or lug two heavy printers to the repair store? Not me.
And yet the attitude I am harboring tells God that He doesn't know what He's doing. "I don't have time for this," while said to no one in particular, is really a veiled challenge to God: "If I were You, I wouldn't let this sort of thing happen to me, because it's a royal waste of my time when I have other, more important things to stress over."
Such audacity, I know. But I can't help myself. And so I need His help. I need to be reminded that He is in control, and that tech problems are not outside His jurisdiction, and that somehow this is all part of His plan that works together in the end for our good. I may not think I am directly cursing God when I say, "I don't have time for this," but I am. And I ought not. For He has more than demonstrated His authority and goodness in my life for me to respond instead with patience and faith. Would that I get to that place instead of where I am now.
I have not handled these headaches well. My work/life balance requires being able to check email and do work at 5 in the morning and/or 7 at night. Less than a day into having no computer or Internet at home, Amy and I are both going through withdrawals. I don't have even have any free time during daylight hours to do the outdoor check on my network box that Verizon's automated repair prompt offers as a preliminary troubleshoot.
My primary thought through it all, said through gritted teeth, is: "I don't have time for this." And I don't. Who has time to pick out and set up a new computer, trace the source of a phone line's crackliness, or lug two heavy printers to the repair store? Not me.
And yet the attitude I am harboring tells God that He doesn't know what He's doing. "I don't have time for this," while said to no one in particular, is really a veiled challenge to God: "If I were You, I wouldn't let this sort of thing happen to me, because it's a royal waste of my time when I have other, more important things to stress over."
Such audacity, I know. But I can't help myself. And so I need His help. I need to be reminded that He is in control, and that tech problems are not outside His jurisdiction, and that somehow this is all part of His plan that works together in the end for our good. I may not think I am directly cursing God when I say, "I don't have time for this," but I am. And I ought not. For He has more than demonstrated His authority and goodness in my life for me to respond instead with patience and faith. Would that I get to that place instead of where I am now.
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