I originally posted this on 2015, and somehow got erased from the system. Thankfully, I recovered an earlier draft and (I hope) improved upon it; it’s been edited and expanded. Would you take a look and tell me what you think, especially what can I do better?
Let’s go!đ
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As most children are, I was rather good at letting my parents know when I was unhappy. I was not a âwhinyâ kid in the traditional sense, though. With the benefit of hindsight, now I realize that one of my strategies to get what I wanted was to look sad, to walk around the house looking all mopey and gloomy; a total Eeyore.
My doting parents were very good at getting the message, and I have to say that I did not always get what I wanted, but I always got what I needed, even though I did not realize it at the time. My childhood was great, but I think I got stuck on my mopey ways.
To compound things, to this day, I am blessed and cursed with the inability to hide my feelings. I would never good at poker!
I can also be very diplomatic and there have been times when I have acted like a very good mediator (albeit only when **both** parts acted in good faith and without malice), but I could never be a diplomat because I tend to say what I think.
However, life has taught me that sometimes it is better to bite my tongue rather than sayingâor e-mailingâthe first thing that pops into my mind. I am grateful for that lesson.
Moving on… The fact is that if I am happy, it shows; I cannot hide it. The same occurs with when sad, angry, annoyed, anxious, depressed, etc.
Even though I am not an âactive whinerâ, as I said above, this does not mean that I donât feel the need of doing it from time to time. I just donât want to be explicit about it, heck I donât even like been taken care of! For example, when Iâm sick, I am the grumpy-leave-me-alone type. And, oh boy, the one time that I had to spend some time in the hospital, in addition of being scared, I HATED people taking care of me!
I know; you just cannot win with meâŚ
But I feel like whining tonight, and I think I am whining to God.
Please do not stop reading. I will not talk about religion. Like many people, sometimes I do not know what to believe or if I believe anything at all.
However, I desperately, passionately, wish that there is something more âout thereâ. I have posted some of my opinions about religion / belief here and here, and one reason why I hope, here.
Oh, and here!
Sometime ago a good friend of mine called me a âHopeful Agnosticâ; I like it. But I digress.
Back to the point, I am whining to God tonight, in fact, Iâve been at it most of this afternoon and evening, which brings me to the following thought: Another good friend of mine told me once that âwhining to Godâ is essentially praying (Have I been praying all this time?). I tend to agree with that interpretation, because I have come to realize that most times when I am anxious or depressed over:
**The uncertainties of life. You see, I hate not being in control (yes, Iâm that kind of stupidâŚ).
**Wanting to be there for my kids forever (please see the point right above, especially the stupid part)âŚ
**Having a child (now a young man) with autism (Not because I worry about me, but because I worry about him); by the way, you wanna see my most viewed âand most polarizingâ post of mine?
**Worries about staying healthy on order to be able to provide for my familyâŚ
**Angry at being treated unfairly (and again, I need to âbite my tongueâ for the time beingâŚ).
**My depression and anxiety…
In all those cases and more, what I am doing is to question God about it, and mind you, not in a particularly respectful way, I must admit. It feels a lot like when I was a child myself and got sad and mopey, filly expecting my parents to âgrantâ my wishes.
You know what? When I think of it, sometimes I feel like Tevye. Do you remember the wonderful movie adaptation of Fiddler On the Roof?
Tevye, the main character, literally talks to God all the time, and in more than one scene he looks up to the sky wearing a âDude, what gives?â or “Really?” expression on his face.
Credit: themoviescene.com
Yep, thatâs my face sometimesâŚ
I am fully aware that there are people right now around the world with truly immediate, dangerous, and tragic problems. And I try, I truly try to feel grateful as much as I can, and many times I am even able to, while in the other hand I feel terrible when I am unable to feel grateful, but what can I say? the mind is a funny thing, and after all, I am only human, right?
Is this how I express my depression and anxiety? This idea might be worth looking at, but I digress again.
So, to wrap things up, my main questions are:
***Am I praying when I whine to God?
***Does it make a difference?
***Is anybody listening?
I just looked up; yep, I totally did.
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One’ First I wanted to thank you for that wonderful review of my book in your last post. I don’t remember if I did before, but if so, it never hurts to repeat. Now for this post, I read it in astonishment, because It appears that you have somehow tapped into my own soul, and written (very eloquently) an exact description of where I was at just about the age you are now. Stressed, worried, anxious, desperate to believe in something, and no idea how to go about it. I guess this isnt totally surprising, our career paths and family histories are quite similar (although I would venture to say, your are ahead of where I was in both areas). So what happened? How did I get over it all, how did I finally find what I was looking for, and accept it? The answer is found in Chapter 9 of the book you so kindly reviewed. It was the dream (starting as a nightmare) of hanging on a cliff face, clutching a rock for dear life, and terrified of falling. And the voice of someone saying “Just let go”. As you remember, I finally did so, and as I did the world turned 90 degrees, and I found myself lying and the ground, perfectly safe, with the boulder I had been clutching a few feet away.
It was years before I understood what it was I had to let go of. Fear was a big part of it. The fear that drove my anxiety, my apprehension about making a committment to Christ (or anything else that seemed risky) and all the complex emotions that were holding me hostage. Like you, I can’t play poker for beans. My wife has told me she can read everything I am thinking and feeling when I get a piece of news, good or bad. When it comes to finding that something more, beyond what our science tells us is legit, beyond what our peers will accept as acceptable, it isnt easy. But the best way to do it, is to just let go. Peace, brother.