I’m not sane all the time apparently.
If you’ve ever taken the Myers-Briggs Personality Test, you either fall into a category of a “P” which is a perceiver or a “J”, a judger.
Perceivers are the people who go with the flow; they see time as flowing. It doesn’t have limits or caps. Whatever we do, we just do.
Perceivers are my arch-nemeses. Can’t stand them. They let stuff roll off their back and shrug their shoulders. They believe things will work out.
I’m a Judger. Yes, that’s a captial “J”. Judgers see time as blocks. We run our schedule by the clock. We want to know what is going on next; we have a task list and we don’t want to get behind. No, it’s not all going to work out. We don’t go by our instincts and change everything at the last minute.
We like things decided.
And I have to admit, after nearly 40 years that my Judging attitude is killing me.
One reason I worry is that I don’t want to forget. I want to solve the problem. I think if I have a lassie-faire attitude then people will perceive me as weak or uncaring.
I’m anything but uncaring. I care too much, I guess.
But I need to realize what I’m capable of, what I can change and what better decisions I can make.
Now when I was a kid, I worried all the time. I just did. I worried so much that kids teased me about how much I worried. I worried about getting teased about how much I worried.
I can’t tell you how many times I threw up over my nerves, how many headaches I have suffered through wondering if the right result would happen.
My worrying and my anxiety is in exact opposition of faith. Worry is the antithesis of faith; they cannot co-exist. One must vacate.
I choose worry because it gives this horrible, cancerous illusion that I’m in control and God isn’t. It gives me this power tainted in soul-draining arrogance that I can control what is outside my limits (how people perceive me, etc.)
I told the chaplain: “I’m actually worried more about doing well in my job more than dying out here.”
The chaplain recently told me after I spoke to him about such worry and anxiety. “Are you Mr. Negative today?”
“Yes, chaplain, I am.”
He told me—”Jesus wasn’t this nice guy that said ‘Whatever you can’t carry, give to Me.’ What he said was, ‘Give it all to me. And I’ll give you rest.’”
I need rest in the worst way. But if I give it over, if I hand over my burdens then what to do I do with all my time? Why do I feel the need to pull myself up with my own bootstraps and give myself an ulcer?
Because Ryan McRae needs to be in control of everything. He needs to have his time regulated and things go on his schedule because if they don’t, then something must be wrong with the totality of the universe.
So I’m doing that. Giving my burdens to God. It’s cliche, oh trust me. And as the chaplain will call me “Mr. M.Div.”, how do I not know this? How easily do I forget?
We’ll see. Stay tuned faithful and loyal reader.
I’m heading out tomorrow to a base to work. I don’t know if the internet is awesome out there, but you’ll hear fro me soon.
Stay safe, pray for me and love one another. I’ll see you soon.