A broken mug

This is a departure from my normal blog.

It has nothing to do with widowhood or remarriage or grief.

Well, nothing to do with grief resulting from the loss of a loved one.

 

I broke a gift from a dear friend this afternoon.

It wasn't an accident.

I did it on purpose!

Not only on purpose,

I had to try a couple ways to accomplish it.

 

I am a very animated person.

I speak with my hands.

I speak with my tone.

Even when my voice isn't involved, I am expressive.

I speak with my eyes.

I speak with my body language.

I speak with my face.

I am the whole speaking package!

 

My Lanny Love laughs at me and often says

"You're not a poker face!"

My closest friend in the world next to my Lanny Love agrees.

A while back, she bought me a gift mug that said:

"I cannot be held responsible for what my face does when you talk."

She thought it was funny.

I thought it was funny.

We laughed and laughed at the appropriateness of it.

I giggle every time I use it.

 

This morning, I used my mug

I did not giggle.

 

I dislike passive_aggressive behavior.

Just tell me what you feel,

say it to my face.

If you feel like you will look unreasonable,

well.............

But don't tell me you're angry

with passive-agressive behavior.

Turns out I don't like it any better in myself.

 

I receive a quarterly hormone pellet insertion.

TMI, I know.

Yes, I have done the research,

yes, I know the risks.

Just like in the "old" days -

or should I say "young" days -

there comes a point a week or so after

when I am moody and may possibly 

lean toward the unreasonable for a couple days.

I know it's coming and I prepare myself for it.

I have, thus far, managed not to say anything I have to apologize for later

during those few days.

But this morning, though I spoke in my practiced

"sweet as pie" voice - when I spoke -

I pulled a passive-aggressive stunt.

 

You see, I wanted something last night.

Sleep didn't change my want.

It didn't change my Lanny Love's acquiescence.

And it didn't change my attitude.

So I hauled out my cup.

I made sure to drink left-handed,

which I often do anyway,

but today I did it on purpose so the words would show.

My Lanny Love probably knew I was not my normal self this morning,

but I'm sure he had no idea I had dug that cup out

juuuuuust for him.

And I'm sure he didn't know why.

That's the thing about passive-aggressive behavior.

It's ineffective.

 

Nonetheless, I used that cup all day long.

It really isn't a good "sipping all day" cup

because of it's size,

and I thought about getting a different one

every time I had to microwave my coffee.

But I didn't want to let my cup go,

or my moodiness,

or my irritation,

or my "take that-attude".

So I used the too-big-for-sipping-but-good-for-nursing-a-grudge-mug...

and the microwave.

All.

    Day.

        Long.

Yep, it really is as ridiculous as it sounds.

I am currently reading

Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough! 

Anyway, there I was, reading along and sipping my tepid coffee

and suddenly The Holy Spirit spoke.

Really?

You can't be held responsible for your behavior?

You really can't?

You can't control your impulses at all, my wayward child???

Is it only your face you can't control?

Is it only those muscle reflexes?

And is it really funny that you don't wish to be held responsible?

Is is really funny that you use 

"I can't help it, I'm expressive, It's who God made me"

(Sounds a whole lot like Adam and Eve, doesn't it?)

as an excuse to treat the gift I gave you poorly,

even in an underhanded, passive-aggressive way?

Is that really funny?

Turns out it isn't!!!!!!!!!!!

Let me tell you, I couldn't get rid of that mug fast enough!

It suddenly made me sick to my stomach to see it, touch it.

Quite literally!

I dumped the coffee and threw the mug in the trash compactor

crying "forgive me, Lord!!!"

I hit that compact button to crush the cup praying

"Crush that spirit within me that causes me and You such shame!"

I listened for the pop of the broken mug.

No pop.

I raised the compactor.

There lay my completely unharmed mug.

I hit that button again and prayed,

"Break it, Lord, crush it!!!"

No pop.

The still, quiet voice.

YOU must shatter it, my child.

I will not take from you what you are not willing to give.

 

I fished that symbol of my carnality out of the trash,

went to my little tool box for my little hammer,

out to the patio where that hammer and I went to work!

I broke that mug!

Shattered it!

Along with my nasty attitude!

 

It's not the first time I've been contrite before God

because of my attitude or behavior

It probably won't be the last time.

But I feel so clean!

 

I took pictures because I want to remember.

I saved the shattered words as a reminder:

My behavior, my attitude, these are my choice.

Choose wisely!

 

Thank you, Daddy God,

for Your refining Love!

Remind me often........

 

 For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver.

                                                ~~ Psalm 66:10 ~~