Ever feel like you’re stuck at Disneyland? I do. Life is like an amusement park to me.
Some days I feel like I’m in a two hour line—waiting— to ride. I don’t like waiting. It seems everyone is having fun and enjoying life, but me. I’m just waiting and inching closer to the ride, but it seems like forever until it’s my turn. I think about hopping out of line and going to another ride. But you know how that goes, once you change lines, the shorter line you choose stops—because the ride just broke down or someone just got sick on the train. Another waiting strategy for me is to people watch. That’s not necessary a good thing because I start wishing I was someone else. Young. Without stretch marks. And a size 4 again.
Other times at the park, I ride the Merry-Go-Round. I circle around and around, listening to the same ole song, seeing the same popcorn/cotton candy stand, Mickey Mouse trash can, and funky hats for sale. I wonder if this is actually suppose to be fun? And I waited for this ride. Why? What’s the big deal? I’m bored, bumping up and down on my painted horse. Circling seems crazy. I feel dizzy. I’m tired of the same ole melody. I want a new song. I want adventure. I want to go forward into uncharted territory. I need a thrill.
So I jump on the newest, greatest coaster. It’s fun. Sometimes my stomach feels like it’s up in my throat. Sometimes I close my eyes. Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I want off, fear invades me. I envision the car I’m in flying off the track.
That’s where I am at now.
One moment, I’m on the mountaintop, elated and full of endorphins, then moments later, I plummet to the bottom of the track. The drop is significant. I feel it. And then I creep back up to the top again, click by click, filled with anticipation. The top is beautiful. There I see the whole park. I wish I could stay there and reflect. But life on a coaster is not that way. It has ups and downs, twists and turns, even times of looping upside down while you clench your baseball cap and purse.
Life on the Merry-Go-Round is another thing. This is how I feel all too often. I repeat the same stupid, selfish things over and over again. Circling gets me nowhere. This ride plays itself out in my parenting and in my marriage. I want change. Change for the better.
I’ve decided to start embracing my park life. No more fighting it. So, I’m trying to remain teachable. Not proud. I’m trying to value each ride for what it’s worth. By being thankful. I’m trying to appreciate the times of waiting. The Bible has many more verses about waiting than going. Interesting concept especially for Americans. We are busy. Too busy.
I believe with all my heart God has something special for each one of us at life’s park. I think once again I need to look up to Him, not to others or myself. I need to trust the One who goes before me, walks beside me, and carries me. I need to keep my eyes focused on what matters—for eternity, not just for the moment. I can not live for my pleasure. I must take risks. I must ride the coasters. I must share my faith with others. Not the perfect “everything’s-fine” faith, but the real life faith. Sharing the challenges, the victories, the highs, the lows. Ever wonder who’s underneath the Goofy and Donald Duck costumes? I wonder how many of us are actually suited up from head to toe hiding who you really are.
At the park, there are many bench warmers. Those who don’t like parks, crowds, or theme songs. They need encouragement. They’ve been wounded. They don’t know how to have fun anymore. They need someone to show them around the park. Will it be you?
No one likes to ride alone.
