I just spent thirty minutes yelling in the car.
To no one.
Seriously, if you looked at me yelling in the car while driving to grab some iced coffee for the night, I was yelling at no one.
Reality is though; I was yelling at God.
I’m so sick of fighting.
I expressed this poorly to my girlfriend tonight. I’m sick of fighting. Today was one of the more stressful Friday’s that I had incurred in some time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized…everything I do is about fighting:
- I’m fighting for business
- I’m fighting for love
- I’m fighting for my faith
- I’m fighting for my dreams
- I’m fighting for my health
I’m just fighting. Everything in me revolves around fighting, and guess what? I am tired. I’m exhausted. I’m done with fighting. That’s exactly what I yelled at God tonight; I’m sick of not getting rest and I’m sick of fighting.
Don’t judge me…and don’t tell me none of you have thought something similar…
It started from this morning; I woke up in a horrible mood. Business things have been stressful and it showed in the mirror. The whole day I felt tension between myself and my Master, and tonight I finally snapped. It’s been brewing for a while, and I’m yet to see where actually becoming angry with God gets you any further advancement, but tonight I didn’t even care. I was/am irritated, upset, heartbroken, and just plain mad. Sure, nothing in life is free and you have to work for the things you have, but man…it feels like there isn’t anyone even in the corner with me. Where’s my Father? Where’s my God? Where’s the Creator of the universe? I know He’s here, I know He’s listening, watching, and probably pondering in thought [I wonder if He does that], but tonight…like a spoiled child, I’m just angry with God.
I’m simply angry because I’m sick of fighting, but guess what? It doesn’t stop. The fighting never stops, not on this earth at least. The daily battles of good and evil rage on throughout the days and nights. I once read where it says, “I will give rest to the weary”, but I think I’m not weary enough. It’s hard to express it in words, but even in the ‘real world’ the fighting is insane:
I fight businessmen who throw me under the bus every chance they get.
I fight for the sake of our soccer program; pushing and convincing people that we’re real and we’re going to be great.
I fight in a relationship because I’m fighting for the relationship [I’m just terrible at showing it].
Even a month ago this anger issue saw its boiling point when I was threatened to go outside of a Steak-N-Shake with a fellow customer, so he could show me how to talk like a man. I’m taking full blame for that. I was so sick of seeing the waitress being treated so poorly that I just outright called out a family of six who were being jerks. Turns out papa bear wasn’t thrilled with this notion and through some interlaced cursing made it clear that if I didn’t shut it he was going to force me to. My arrogance got the best of me, but before a blow could be landed, his family left the diner. Was I the hero? Nope, I was just a hot head who was sick of seeing people treated so…horribly. That’s all I am, a fighter.
I’m going to try to fall asleep and actually rest, but judging by the spat I just had with God; I doubt rest comes easily.