Whinny Tittie Baby

1 Thessalonians 5:18, “in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I thought of calling this post Turn Back to Praise but I have used that already. So I am going to call it Whinny Tittie Baby because it is a much needed reminder to me to give thanks IN EVERYTHING. Plus it is a powerful line in Matt Redman’s Blessed Be You Name included below.

I guess that I could go into something “preachy” as my friend Paul says about “everything” being God’s will for you and me, but I think that in shameless surrender I would rather tell the story of what let up to this.

For the past few days I have been, let’s say… a little irritable. Certainly justifiable in the midst of getting off, then back on hormone replacement therapy, but even spiritually I have been irritable. My assessment of God and our relationship has been critical, unappreciative, short sighted, and ungrateful. My prayers continue to be answered with answers not exactly like I would like them. For me, I just want money. Then with the money I can make my life easier and do the things I want to do. Like knowing that I have enough to go to New York in December to see my daughter graduate, or enough to send my one in a million hunting dog off for a couple thousand dollars more in training in Nebraska. All the while losing sight that just one year ago I was unemployed. Losing sight that just a couple of months ago I nearly had to file personal bankruptcy. I’ve been a big whinny tittie baby, and more spoiled that my eight year old son.

I whined about not have $500 to build and stock a quail pen so I could have some birds to work my dog on. Even though just this past week a man, who has trained multiple field champions, who has a facility 20 minutes from my house, who has quail pens (with the quail), and who has extended an open invitation to train me to train my dog free of charge… to my dumb self this is not good enough because I don’t have to pay for it, because I can’t afford to send my dog to the BEST.

I whined about money for a host of other reasons even though God blessed me this month and covered every expense, and did it miraculously. And so with this fowl, selfish mood I went to my men’s group. But before I stopped in to see my friend John. John is 71 years old and a pretty hard man. I can’t say that there is no charity in him, but I can say that charity does not include parting with $1 of his money. And so we were catching up and I asked, “How has the economy affected your business?” He replied, “I’m not going to make $20 million this year like last, but I will make $4 or $5 million so I guess I’m not destitute.” 

I have to say a little jealousy stirred in me. Particularly since he does it with a staff of 4, and so it made me think.

You see John has a son my age and perhaps that is why he has been fatherly to me, and so I asked, “Why don’t you get your son in here and start mentoring him… teach him what you do.” His reply, “My children are worthless… they are spoiled, they know how to spend money, but none of them are interesting in working hard to make it.” 

I wanted to say adopt me, but I didn’t. Instead for the first time I had a kind of sorrow for my friend. Sure jealousy, envy about how naturally good he is at what he does, but I was kind of sad that when he is gone, his work will be gone too.

Staying less than 30 minutes I left to go straight to my men’s meeting. And it started off very well. One of the guys read a letter to himself, something I have seen a couple of times from different sources, and it convicted me that I probably couldn’t write a letter to myself without crying.  Beyond that I felt very disconnected from the group. In fact I felt as disconnected as I did the very first time I went there. I really didn’t want to hear about other people’s issues. I didn’t need to know that one of the church staff members in our group is in a place where he does not believe in God. That he is, “ok with the business of church and selling the drug of religion if God in fact turns out to be real.” And I certainly did not want to hear from Wilber. (Name changed to protect the innocent.)

Wilber is a strange bird suffering from some very real psychological issues created by one horrible life. Don’t get me wrong, the man is a certified genius. He can site studies and data and knows more about all the world’s religions than I know about Christianity. But every time he talks it is long, it is overly detailed, and it is sad. Wilber’s life truly has been a shit sandwich that every day he has to wake up and take another bite either in reality or in memory of the past. (no apologies to the religious for the profanity) But that is absolutely the best description I can come up with. It is said that he suffers from a super form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Now get this… inflicted upon him from birth to age 17 by his parents. Yesterday was another new story of his childhood, and it included a confession that boiled my blood. Disconnected I thought what am I doing here? And what was I complaining about, my issues look like cake and ice cream compared to these people. 

I am miserably convicted by not being completely thankful for EVERYTHING. I am thankful that God answers my prayers, even though in the strangest of ways. I am thankful that I was raised in a good home, and don’t have to daily deal with the demons of having had demonic parents. I am thankful that like the minister, I too have come to the place where I have question God’s existence in the face of lifeless religion only to have Him prove to me over, and over, and over again that He is not only real, but inside me and beside me. Even more so I see He is in folks like Wilber too.

I am thankful for someone so far beyond a wife, that soul mate only touches on what she means to me. And to the lonely out there. To the young man of Iwo Jima who thinks he will NEVER find someone… God has some who is not perfect, but perfect for you.

I am thankful for my friends, for my family, for awesome children.

Father thank you for everything. Blessed be your name.