Mama Mia!

There is a certain order to life, a way things are supposed to happen, that makes sense. If you do A, B, and C, you will get alphabet soup. This system keeps most of us on the proverbial straight and narrow and prevents chaos from ensuing. If I eat healthy, I’ll be healthy. If I work hard and save my money, I’ll be able to retire comfortably. If I follow the makeup and hair tutorial exactly, I will look like Charlize Theron. That’s how things are supposed to work. 
Only, it doesn’t. Life doesn’t always follow the rules. It likes to pull fast ones, throw curve balls, and jump out from behind doors. And as a person who doesn’t like surprises, I take issue with this. I am starting a movement—and a petition—to demand that life play fair. If you’d like to join me, please sign below. 
I’ve recently had a fast one pulled on me, in terms of my health. Oh, don’t worry. I’m not planning to die tomorrow or even next week. But if I do, please make sure I have lots of pink roses and peonies at my funeral. Oh, and don’t let them lay me to rest in high-heeled shoes. My Sketchers will do just fine, thank you. On second thought, better put me in my brown western boots. I want to make sure everyone up there knows I’m a Texan.
A while back, I was diagnosed with Non-Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease. Last week, I learned it’s progressed. Now, the name in itself is a slap in the face. I mean, why can’t I have a glamorous disease? I know. No disease is glamorous. But dying of consumption or typhoid or even gout sounds so Victorian. When I hear those disease names, I picture a pretty, dainty woman with a fan, convalescing on her daybed, with servants bringing her tea and chicken soup. 
Fatty Liver Disease dredges up an image of a walrus convalescing on a 1970’s plaid sofa, surrounded by empty soda cans and greasy potato chip crumbs. I demand a better name for my disease. From now on, I will refer to my disease as Tepithida. I have no idea what that is, but it sure sounds exciting.
As if the name weren’t bad enough, I don’t even drink alcohol, and I eat salads and organic foods and lean proteins. And I exercise an hour a day. All that, and I have a fat liver which is apparently causing me all kinds of problems. If I’d known all that lettuce and grilled chicken wasn’t going to keep me healthy, I’d have been eating Blue Bell ice cream for dinner. Every night. 
A curveball for sure. But the thing about curveballs is that, though they’re tricky, they can be hit. They can be slammed out of the park! You just have to be prepared. Extensive research on hitting a curveball (AKA a quick Google search) showed me the following tips:
1.Know the pitcher’s past performance. So, if Tepithida has progressed in spite of my current diet and exercise plan, I’ll just have to step things up a notch. 
2.Take into consideration your previous attempts. (See number one.)
3.Bat with proper stance. In other words, go back to the basics, and do all the little things right. Drink plenty of water. Pay attention to the chemicals I’m being exposed to. Focus on the little steps I can take to move in the right direction. 
All those steps are important in combating Tepithida, or depression/anxiety, or any of life’s other curveballs. But there’s one thing that’s not mentioned above: know when something is beyond your control, and take it to the Coach. Ask Him for help, and He will give it. 
It takes humility to admit there’s something about my life that I can’t fix. I wonder if that’s why God allows these things into our lives . . . to humble us and draw us back to Himself? He doesn’t cause bad things to happen to His children, but more than anything, He wants us to seek Him out. He wants us to cling to Him. 
That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve also presented Him with my petition for fairness in life, and He reminded me that if all things were fair, I’d be much worse off than I am. So don’t worry about adding your signature to it just yet. 
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand,” Isaiah 41:10.