Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Issue of Trust

As I rushed out of room angrily, hot tears sprang to my eyes. My dad was talking about something he knew I hated talking about (eyeballs, if you have to know) and I was overreacting again. I needed to stop being such a baby. I needed to stop being such a wimp. Thoughts like these rushed into my head as I ran into my room, locking the door behind me; I sprang onto my bed and buried my head into my pillow. At that moment, I despised my dad and it scared me. I knew that he was just playing around with me, but he knew that I hated talking about stuff like that!
I cried for awhile, determined to make Dad pay, somehow. Determined not to forgive him, just for a little while. In other words, proud.
I laid on my bed for 25 minutes and then something strange happened. Instead of seeing what Dad was talking about (which was different awful images), I saw the faces of my friends, the people who knew me as well as my family does.That's the moment when I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and being mad at my goofy, lovable dad.

I have this thing about eyeballs. Whenever someone starts talking about anything eye-related, I put my hands over my ears and close my eyes. I know it sounds immature and it kind of is. My dad and my sister Allie love to say stuff that make my eyes tear up. For example, one time Allie threw a Frisbee to my dad and he dropped it (of course! :D) and he said, "That happened the other week, too. Except that time, I caught it with my eyeball."  
Then they had this whole conversation about how he caught it with his eyeball and how it was still stuck in his eye (after a week!). 
My rabbit, Sophie is half-blind in one eye. When we found out something was wrong with her, we took her to the vet and he demonstrated how to pull her eyelid back a little and then put the eye drops in. I almost passed out! My dad had to carry me out to the car so I could get some fresh air.
My family knows how to get me on the floor, curled up into a ball with my hands covering my ears and my eyes closed. The thing is, when I'm in that position, I'm completely venerable. There's nothing protecting me. 
That's how I need to be with God; completely helpless. I need to put that kind of trust into action, and not just with God, but with my parents. I need to put my life in his hands and trust he will do what's best with it.
OK, I agree with you if you say this is a weird tidbit. :)
I just felt like I was supposed to write this. Thanks for reading my weirdest article yet! :D
Don't worry, there will be more to come!