Foolishly Frustrated

We are hip-deep in a remodeling mess here at the Dykstra household this week.

We finally got back in the house on Thursday night after being out of it for a week and half while our living room and dining room walls were refinished. Coming home was a blessing, but a mixed one. Rather than peacefully reading, writing, and generally ignoring all work in the evenings while we stayed at Emily's parents' home, we came home to an overwhelming list of things to do: unpack, tape the existing trim, primer and paint for walls, new trim to stain, ceiling tiles to purchase, ceiling tiles to install, and on and on and on. So much to do, all of it staring us in the face every minute we're in the house. We knew it would be a large undertaking; we just hadn't planned on it being now.

The original plan was later. Late spring perhaps. Maybe summer. But that's not how it worked out. After all, you don't tell your wall guy "no" when he tells you he can get you in.

It's hard not to feel stressed. We've got all this work to do, and we don't really have a lot of time to get it done right now. We filled our schedule, much of it before we knew that this project would begin in February. On Thursday afternoon, prior to heading home for the first time in 10 days to face the task, I realized that my upcoming schedule is pretty tight:

Thursday evening: Officiating job. Home at 8 pm.
Friday evening: Officiating job. Home at 7 pm.
Saturday morning: Coach Elise's basketball team.
Saturday afternoon: UNI men's basketball game with girls.
Monday night: Parent-teacher conferences. Home at 8:30.
Wednesday night: UNI game with friend.
Next weekend: visiting friends out of town.
The next weekend: Spring break trip to Texas.
Free time: work on my next sermon, which is in one month.

I wanted to grumble on Thursday afternoon. I wanted to get frustrated at the schedule, agitated about the work to be done, anxious and tense about the next few weeks and the chaotic abode in which I'd be living. But because I had a brief window of time before my refereeing job, and because I needed to get some words down to keep myself within shouting distance of this month's 13,000 word goal, I prayed. And praying led to an important revelation.

I was being an idiot. Any stress from my situation was stupid stress, essentially finding ways to grumble about blessings. What was it that was filling my schedule and making it difficult to make progress? The opportunity to work in order to pay for the job - blessing. The chance to spend time with my daughter doing something she cares about - blessing. The chance to see the Panthers with my wife, my daughters, and my parents - blessing. Friends willing to host us. A fun trip with our daughters. The invitation to speak about something that I'm studying and am passionate about. Blessing, blessing, blessing.

I made a decision right then during the prayer - don't be an idiot. And I realized that probably most of the things that I grumble about, if I looked at them closely enough, would be about blessings as well. I just went back and reread that prayer: "Grant us calm, Lord. Protect us from allowing the blessings to become stress. . . How silly would it be, Lord, to allow a life crowded with blessings to be the source of grumbling? I'm already humbled by the fact that I knew the temptation would exist to feel burdened. Instead, I thank you, Lord."

I'm thrilled I had those extra 15 minutes to get my head and heart right.

In reading I Corinthians 10 this week, I found some instructions from Paul to the Corinthians in terms of their conduct and what they should avoid. First up - idolatry. That's a biggie. Next up were sexual immorality and testing Christ. More heavy-hitting sins. What came next, tucked in with that list, surprised me: "do not grumble."

Perhaps it should not have been surprising. For the temptation is great, every day, even in the midst of a charmed life.