Breathing without gills

I rarely do or say anything without rehearsing it countless times in my head. For one reason, I learn my spontaneous reactions are often very stupid. I examine what I plan to say countless times from various angles, imagining the reactions of others. I even imagine what others may say in response, then prepare my various responses accordingly.

Even now I'm imagining someone reading this post, wrinkling their brow in disgust and confusion as they mutter, "Why can't you just be normal?"

Normal. What a concept. I wonder that myself, but it's rather akin to a fish asking a person stuck at the bottom of a lake, "Why don't you just breathe?"

And then the bubbly response, "I don't have &*$#@ gills! And why is a fish talking to me?! Stop yapping and get me out of these cement shoes!"

I kid, we don't really have Mafia in Syracuse. *Wink wink*

Where was I? Oh yes, being normal by an act of will.

I struggle with the concept of "tough love". Being told to "suck it up, get over it, pick yourself up" doesn't really seem to help. Being told, "I'm sorry this may sound harsh, but I'm just telling you the truth" sounds like a cop-out for dispensing answers without taking the time or trouble to help bear the burden. Where is "speaking the truth in love"?

Now, this could be perfect for others. Actually, this could be exactly what I need to hear. Maybe I just need a Red Forman to put a foot up my ass, spiritual or otherwise. Maybe I need to man up, stop whining, and just do better.

But as someone struggling with the idea of grace, trying to let go of my performance-based Christianity, this "get over it" mentality takes me back to a place I'd rather not be. Call it weakness, call it a lack of character, call it whatever you want. It's just me.