Wednesday Prayers: There is No Quiet Car on the Train to Crazytown

Yesterday, I told friends that I was having A Day, and they delighted me with all kind of funny, silly distractions that brightened things considerably.  Even better: they clearly knew their audience.  Few things are nicer to me than feeling known.  (Well, known and liked is good, come to think of it.)

There are situations I manage far better at 33 than I did at 13, but to tell the truth:  that doesn't make them hurt less.  This week, some of that old mess flared back up.  Loudly, and dramatically.  I can choose not to get entangled, but (despite ample appearances to the contrary), I can't effectively barricade my heart.  I want to scream and cry and throw things, but it would be useless, and it's hugely not my style.  Still, it's hard for me to accept that certain things will always hurt.  My own crazy is my belief that if I were just tough enough, if I had enough willpower and resolve, I could be impervious-- at least to old hurts (anyone can get blindsided by new stuff, of course).  It's weak and foolish to be hurt more than once by the same thing, yes?  

Sadly, no.  Stuff keeps hurting, and worse:  it's now painful AND boring.  Sometimes, there is just no acceptable solution.

And, look:  if anyone could fix things through sheer willpower, it would be me.  Can't be done, my friend.

So, my prayers this week are a mixed bag:  gratitude for the delightful people in my life, and a plea for solace in the midst of some Old Ick.  (Full disclosure:  I may also be praying for a source of Ick to get smote.)

How about your prayers?  Gratitude?  Divine assistance?  Smiting?