Dear God, please stop punching me

I'll preface this entry by saying that I know God has a plan for all of us, that his wisdom is greater than mine, and whatever happens in my life will turn out OK as long as I trust in God.

See, even this horribly cheesy praise and worship song says so!



That being said, sometimes he does things and I have to stop and say, "I know you're trying to do a good thing here God, but I just don't see it." And it's true. Half of the time in your life things don't go well, you don't specifically yell at God for screwing up your life, you just shake your head and tell him you just don't understand what he's trying to do. At least that's how it is for me.

This week I had one of those conversations. As faithful readers know, my wife and I are having a baby. Which is outstanding, don't get me wrong, but we got pregnant a lot sooner than we both expected. My plan was to at least be able to save up a little money, pay off a credit card, then try getting pregnant. I'm not stupid, I realize that unless I win a million dollars, I'm never going to feel 100 percent financially stable.

That said, when we found out we were pregnant, I was mostly fine with it. "I don't know why you decided to allow us to get pregnant so soon God, but I trust your judgement."

OK, so financially this meant that we had to save a little more. Maybe I'd work some overtime at work (which I do when offered, for the maximum amount of time I'm given). Drop our DirecTV package down to the basics (and say goodbye to the Do-It-Yourself Network). I'm going to save every bit of money I get. That should help.

Right? Right?! Oh no, it's never that simple my friends.

On Monday, I went out to my car (1976 Beetle) to go to work. It didn't start. The engine didn't even try turning over. All the lights came on, but no vroom vroom that cars are famous for. Even after cleaning the battery terminals, still no go. So I had it towed to the garage, where I presently await what could be a $100+ repair job.

Then, at the end of the week, I get a letter from the state of Arkansas. Instead of the $85 refund, they did some checking and stated that I now owe $340 instead. Something about a missing W-2, even though I included EVERYTHING when I mailed it to them (because the state of Arkansas is too stupid to allow you to efile).

Assuming that they don't change their minds about that, there's $340 we could have put toward paying off debt that goes toward our government so that one of my senators can put gas in his fancy car (wanna save the country big bucks? Make all senators and representatives buy their own gas out of their own pocket).

And then there was a "promise" of a job a few weeks ago that could have easily doubled my yearly salary. I had some very solid ideas when I went into that job interview, but for some crazy reason (rabies I'm assuming), they decided to go a different direction and hire another person. God bless that person, and I hope he does everything in his power to make his place of employment better, but let's be honest, he's nowhere near as talented as me.

Those are my issues, and I don't apologize if they come across as petty or whiny. I'm tasked by God to raise two children (I REALLY want twins!), which I'm assuming means that God wants me to be somewhat financially sound, and he allows this to happen. I know that raising children will mean all sorts of financial surprises, and if this is the way to get me prepared for that, then I accept it.

Acceptance, however, doesn't mean liking it. And I hate it. I really hate that I can't spend money on something good. I hate that I have a job (which I don't hate, for the record) that doesn't even pay $25,000 a year despite a four year degree from a horrible institution Arkansas State University.

I suppose I'll look back in a few years and tell God, "Thanks for showing me the way, even though I couldn't see it at the time."

Until then, I have no clue what God is doing. I wish he'd tell me though. There's no downside to that.

I'll leave you with a song that sums up how I feel right now. Dead Man by Jars of Clay