I came home from the optometrist’s office and I was immediately confronted with the smell of poop as I walked through the door. I figured Lucas could not hold it because the other two dogs are in the bedroom and it is overpowering.
I look around the house, but cannot find anything. I keep looking because my vision is blurry from some drops the doctor put in my eyes. Lucas lowers his head the way he does when he is worried I am going to yell. I scratch behind his ear to reassure him that “it’s all good” as I keep looking.
Maybe it was Sox. Sometimes he hits the litterbox hard and the aroma sifts through the house. I look in the box, but there is nothing but scented clay and sand. I think to myself, “The dogs sometimes eat the cat poop, and when they do, it stinks. I guess Sox pooped, Lucas ate it, and the smell is lingering with him.” (This is why I have to scoop the poop as soon as Sox drops a deuce.)
I know Lucas has some bad gas, but this is too strong for a fart. But finding nothing, I give up and decide to take off my all black clergy attire. With my head freshly shaved for Lent, I look like Darth Vader when Luke takes off the mask. I open my bedroom door and see it – the pile of poop so strong that its odor seeped through doors into the rest of the house, making it smell as if it were in the living room.
I sigh a defeated sort of sigh, undress, lead the dogs to the back door, let them out, grab my poop/pee cleaning bucket (yeah it happens that much that I have a specific bucket – usually for the cat. Well, it is not really a bucket; it is more of an old tupperware container that has found its niche along with my specific poop/pee scratchy sponge), and clean up the pile.
As I bend down to clean, I repeat a few more times “God’s will, not mine, be done,” wondering how many times I am going to have to say that today.
Now, I do not know if Kaiser pooping in my bedroom was God’s will. Sometimes Shit literally does just happen. I think if God’s will was involved at all, it was the part that gave Kaiser the good sense to get off the bed before he pooped because as much as I hate poop in my house, I REALLY hate it in my bedroom; and as much as I REALLY hate poop in my bedroom, I REALLY, REALLY HATE it in my bed.
But regardless of whether poop on the floor, getting stuck with glasses instead of contacts, not having things i planned on doing working out because of website crashes, and a whole host of other insignificant, but annoying challenges were God’s will or not, it ultimately does not matter. Because whether or not they were God’s will for me this day, my response must be God’s will.
I think when I say to God “Your will, not mine, be done,” I am not saying to God, “Bring on the suckiness and annoying crap I have to endure.” I am saying to God, “No matter what happens today; no matter how crappy or tragic or painful, or annoying; no matter how bad it may get today; let me respond to it in a manner that is in keeping with your will.”
It is not what happens to me that sucks! It is my reaction that sucks! “God’s will, not mine, be done” is not a prayer that God keeps my life in order as much as it is a prayer for God to keep me in order as I keep muddling through this thing called life.