Pride, Bitterness, Resentment, and Self-Pity
a blog from 2022
I was scrubbing sticker residue off of my eight-year-old's dress. At the Uptown Whittier Parade, a cop gave my children each several sticker badges, which they put on their clothes and forgot. So I looked online how to get sticker residue off clothing after it's been through the wash. Someone said use rubbing alcohol, so I dump on the alcohol and am spreading the fabric between my fingers and scrubbing it rigorously. My fingers are hurting and I'm sure these fumes aren't good to breath.
That's when I tell God, "God, I don't want to do this. This is not what I want to be doing right now. Shall I just throw the dress away? It's not my daughter's favorite. She won't even care. She's almost outgrown it. I could give it away. I could donate it to Savers and let someone else scrub off this sticker residue."
I'm scrubbing and scrubbing and can't make up my mind one way or the other on what to do with this dress, so I keep scrubbing and tell God, "I have a college degree in English Writing. I graduated from Biola's Torrey Honors institute. I write poetry. I could write books. I am a smarty pants. This is not what I want to be doing right now!"
