By Susan Shanklin

You know life is not rocket science, so it boggles my mind why we (and I) make it so difficult?

I haven’t read Tom’s article for this newsletter yet, which is a good thing. I don’t want it to throw me off my game, so to speak. I have a thought going through my brain, and I’m going to let it rip. See where it sticks or misses.

For me, it’s so hard to make decisions, most of the time. A better way to say it is I HATE to fail or make the wrong decision. I have the mind of Christ, but I sure am not tapping into it. If I have all wisdom from above, I sure am not gleaning it.

So why is this? I sure pray about everything all the time. I have my ears open, I think. I have the mind of Christ, so what is missing? 

I want to do right, but miss the mark, or think I miss the mark. I don’t see myself as He sees me, and that I know is a mistake. I’m not totally beating myself up here, just looking inward more to turn this “thing” around.

I can figure out what to have for dinner or what color underwear to wear. So why is it so hard to pick out a chair, for instance? 

I had a lovely excellent chair, a Flexsteel oversize push back chair and ottoman for years, and it was time to part ways, so I gave it away.

I pray for a chair. I look for a chair. I start a Pinterest board posting all the wonderful chairs there are in the world.

Chairs are pretty pricey, and you know it’s a final decision. You can’t just use it awhile and return it. Fear of failure.

I scour the thrift stores in search of a chair. Well, most of them are shot, to begin with, and who knows their history.

But one day, I spotted a chair. A massive, gold, king-size wing pushback LazyBoy. It looks spanking brand new. Oh, I sit in it and push back. Wiggle around in it … and YES, this is it. I purchase it, and two strong men shove it in the back of my Nissan Rogue. I drag it out in pieces to the sidewalk and wait for the strong man of my house to bring it in.

For weeks and months, I wiggle around in it, and it’s not so comfortable. I failed.

Tom moves it into his study. Tom moves it into the dining room (which is very large) all under the direction of Susan, of course.

Pray again for a chair. Why can’t I have a chair?!!!!!!!

I repeat the process by trying Craigslist. 

I found it! I found it! I tell Tom. A Flexsteel leather chair with ottoman! It’s only 60 miles away, but would you pleeeeeeease take me to see it. Being the loving husband he is, Tom did, and yes, we shoved another chair in the back of my car.

Oh my, this chair is so uncomfortable, and I suffer in silence for as long as I can until it is moved into the study and the gold beast out on the porch.

I decide to put the leather chair and ottoman on Craigslist, but our daughter, Heidi, says her husband might be interested in it. Yahooooooo.

I am chairless, again. 

Why, Lord, is this so hard? It’s just a CHAIR!

Tom suggests, “Why don’t you go shopping for a new chair?”

I do just that, and nothing is right. Nothing is comfortable. 

I feel like a dud. Not a royal dud, just a dud. 

Time goes by, and I have an idea.

“Tom,” I say, “Would you take me to Ikea for my birthday?” My birthday is at the end of December.

He says, “ Like on your birthday?”

Well no, silly, just for my birthday. You don’t have to buy it, just take me. 

Now folk, let me tell you, this shopping trip to Ikea would be the ultimate sacrifice of my dearest husband. He “no likes” shopping at Ikea. Plain and simple. Best birthday present ever.

We go. We look. I sit. We look. I sit.

Tom says, “Can we go eat lunch and think about it?” Haha.

We eat. I leave to look and sit some more and tell Tom to just hang out in the food court.

He agrees.

After a while, I get a text from Tom.

“How’s it going?”

“I’m sitting in the green one,” I say since I have it narrowed down to a white chair or green chair. Both were different styles.

Oh, people, this is not rocket science, is it? 

I cannot decide. I even text God! Which one God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously!

Well, we end up shoving another chair in the back of my car, and I’m test-sitting this one out. But there is good news … it’s returnable! They give you like 365 days to return it.

I guess the point of this secret life of the great faith woman is … shrug … it’s a chair. It’s not rocket science.

Why make myself miserable with small things in light of the big overall picture? I’ll get it right. I just know I will. Right?

Right?

P.S. Tom bought the white one for me. Or maybe it should have been the green one.