When, "Thank You," Hurts

 “Why didn’t you like him?” my friend asked.

“He didn’t open the car door for me, and he was on his phone the entire date,” I replied.

Manners mean a lot to me.

My parents raised me on, “Please,” and, “Thank You.”

One of my biggest pet peeves when I served were guest’s lack of manners.

To some guests, I was invisible.

They would run me around ragged, asking for every little thing, and never once say, “Thank You.”

The 6 years I served taught me more about life than any college course will.

I learned humility.

I learned that a smile can change everything.

I learned that people can surprise you.

I learned that people are picky and complicating.  

I learned that manners matter.

It should be no surprise that the gentleman mentioned in the beginning of this post did not get a second date.

Last night, I forgot my manners.

It had been a hard day at work. Not physically hard, rather, emotionally.

I currently hold a job that’s the complete opposite of my passion.

I sit in front of a computer for 8 hours, staring at numbers, staring at the clock.

I am not good with numbers and data. In fact, I failed college math two times.
I hold a Psychology and Ministry degree, yet, I am in Administration and Business.  

As I sat in bed last night, I asked God, “How long?”

How long till I am able to make my passion my career?

How long till I find a job that uses my talents?
How long does this in-between phase last?

After, “How long?” came, “Why?”

Why does everyone else seem to have it figured out?
Why does my life look the exact opposite of what I thought it would look like? (Meaning, I am not married, with a mortgage, living in the suburbs, driving a minivan).

Why do I even  continue believing that I can make my passion and talents my career?

I have heard the voices of those who tell me my passion will never be my career. The voices that say, “That is not real life”. The voices that tell me to stop dreaming, to find a job that is more reasonable,and reliable. I hear voices that tell me to give up on my dream.

Thankfully, I have stopped listening to those voices.

Instead, I have learned to listen to the Voice who knows everything about me. 

The Voice Who calls me to walk on the water and believe for the impossible.

After my dance with self-pity and making it all about, “me”, I opened the Bible.  

Without fail, like so many times before, it hit me….

“Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of His works with songs of joy,” Psalm 107:22

It was as if God was telling me, “Thank Me.”

I didn’t want to Thank God.

I didn’t want to reflect on all my blessings last night.

I wanted to sit in self-loathe and complain about how life isn't fair.

That is not what God wanted.

He desired my sacrifice.

He sacrificed His only Son for me, yet, I could barely sacrifice a simple, “Thank You.”

So I started saying, “Thank You.”

Thank you for my health.

Thank you for my family and friends.

Thank you for the miracles of Faye, Edgel and Nick.

Thank you that I have a job.

Thank you that I have shelter...and so on.

 

And again, without fail, I was brought back to this great truth that seems to be one of the hardest for me to learn:

I am not God.

I can’t stop the wind and the waves.

I can’t figure out the reasons to all my, “How Long’s?” and, “Whys?”

I can’t begin to know what will happen next.

What I can do is to Thank Him.

Thank Him when it hurts.

Thank Him when it’s not fair.

Thank Him when I don’t understand.

“Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of His works with songs of joy,” Psalm 107:22

Last night, I forgot my manners.

However, this morning, I said, “Thank You.”

“Thank You for waking me up this morning. Thank you for a job to go to. Thank You that You have a good plan for my life. Thank You that You are God, and I am not.”