The van's speedometer has intermittently stopped working. It also has a failing ball joint in the front axle. As well as all the other missing bits, broken bits, stained bits, leaking bits...
The Sparrow made an "extra" main contactor sound and lost power just before I got to the Posey Tube, on Christmas Eve, on the way home from Mass. I happen to work 1000 feet from where this happend, so I pushed it into the parking lot.
Water from the Christmas Tree leaked down through the floor into the ceiling of where Xena and I sleep, so the light in the middle of the room dropped out of the ceiling.
The heater stopped heating the house.
A job I was counting on, and had put effort into getting (instead of putting effort into other jobs) went away. Same or similar story with quite a few other jobs, too.
My machine that makes letters for signs developed a continuing error that required complete restarting of computer, plotter and operating systems.
Nicholas snaps at me unless I say only the most innocuous thing. Xena steals all the blankets and sleeps way over on the edge of the bed. Caitlan skewers me with deadpan insurrection.
Some of these things, are taken care of, now. Some are just patched over, with temporary fixes. Some are waiting resolution.
Am I really being killed by inches? What happens if I just let go of all the striving, of the effort to keep things maintained, or even improved? Am I too attached to outcomes?
I think this is part of how God works on maturing us. Issue after issue, refining my responses so that each broken thing becomes a mirror into whether I'm ego and self driven, or will of God driven. Each thing that newly falls apart brings me maybe a moment of aggravation, but close on its heals is a tiny bit of rejoicing: "What am I learning from this?"
It's my ego-self that's slowly dying, being rendered into a tool to do the real works I'm here to do. Shall I finally now, say "yes," and release myself from all past obligations? Do I say "yes," and move into a brand new life?
God, I'm strong enough, right now, to do more than I see in front of me, so can we take a small break, please? Let me get my wind back? I promise, if I get too headstrong or heard-hearted, I won't complain when You move to correct me. Just give me a break now, let life flow harmoniously for half a year.