Romans 8:18

...consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.

That was part of the Bible reading in church last Sunday.  My first reaction was, "Pffft!  Suffering?  I'm not suffering!"  I know from traveling that I am a millionaire living in La La Land here in the good ol' USA.  My health is good, the health of my family and friends is good.  I've got a sweetie, a home, a job, two cats, and a good life.  Nobody is persecuting me because of my religion.  What do I know of suffering?

Then a teeny tiny bit of honesty crept in.  I am suffering from the dissonance, distance and disapproval I feel in my relationships with my adult children.  I have been battling mightily with the despair I feel with my daughter's estrangement from me.  Then while I was eating out with my son, I expressed my displeasure to him about waiting such a loooooong time until the waitress came to take our order.  He pretty much said, "Oh poor you!  Have a little compassion Mom!"  O dear. 

I often feel like the "shoot Mom" hunting season is on and I'm the clueless bounty.  I mean, shouldn't there be the ringing of a bell, or a "Ladies, start your engines," or something? This honesty bit then lead to the realization that a nasty little something in my head (where the heck does that come from anyway?) says, "Yeah, your relationships suck, you suck, it is all your fault and it will never get any better."

Thank goodness being honest didn't leave me with that cheery little bit.  Because, my present sufferings will be completely blown away by the wonderful relationships, happiness, and God's faithful goodness that will be revealed.  Suddenly, being honest with myself doesn't feel so hopeless anymore.

I had a good laugh yesterday.  I just finished reading a nonfiction book with the outlandish title of "Love and Terror on the Howling Plains of Nowhere."  It is about a mysterious disappearance and death in Chadron, Nebraska.  In the book, Chadron sounds like a small, isolated place.  Wouldn't you know, when I joined my fellow instructional aides at lunch, a gal was saying she was from Nebraska and loved everything about it.  And, yes, she knew the location of Chadron!  I love moments like that.

I am a voracious reader of biographies.  I think I will call it a night with "Walking on Eggshells."