Me? Stubborn?

I remember well the first time my son Brad showed his rather independent streak peppered with more than a fair amount of stubbornness. He was about three years old, and we were shopping for new tennis shoes for him. He wanted a certain pair of Spiderman tennies that were not very good quality and cost way more than what I had budgeted for shoes. When I told him that we were not purchasing the shoes, he first cried, then screamed, then laid on the floor writhing around like a snake while chanting, "I want the Spiderman shoes!" over and over, coupled with a periodic, "I hate you, Mommie," thrown in for emphasis. As those of you who are parents would agree, I'm sure, little Bradley completely sealed his fate with his outburst and temper tantrum. I still smile when I recall his last-ditch effort as I dragged him from the store. He dug his little feet in as firmly as he could and shouted, "I am never wearing shoes again ... never, ever, ever, Mommie!" Funny, the last time I saw Brad, now almost 23 years old, he had shoes on.

Over the last few months, I've been told over and over again that I'm stubborn, that I don't always listen to the advice of others, that I'm fiercely independent. And though it pains me to admit it, all of those things are most definitely true. I've always struggled with obedience and submission, and I certainly have a hard time with other people telling me what to do. Stubbornness is a longstanding family trait passed down from generation to generation ... I can remember my grandmother talking about how stubborn her mom was, my mom talking about how stubborn my granny was, and I talk about how stubborn my mom was. I guess I come by my stubborn streak honestly, and so does my Brad.

I had planned for several weeks to head out yesterday to Tennessee for a week, via a stop at my brother's house in Kentucky for a couple of days. Quite a few people in my life didn't think it was a wise decision for me to drive alone, and even though I assured all of them that I would have a companion along for the ride ... albeit a small one of the wiener dog persuasion ... they didn't think it was a smart choice. I, however, was bound and determined that I was going no matter what anyone else thought. And if I'm open, honest, real and transparent about it, I wasn't really considering what God had to say on the decision either ... dangerous waters to be in when I don't want to listen to my Lord ... dangerous waters for sure.

Once again exuding His power and protection over me (in spite of me), a span of 10 minutes changed everything, and I had to cancel my planned trip. I was angry; I cried; I yelled at my dogs; I cried some more ... and then ... then I decided to listen. God had been telling me for weeks through the voices of my family and friends that the timing wasn't right for this trip ... maybe in a few months, but not right now. And as a friend said to me after it was made quite obvious that I wasn't going anywhere, it's a real shame that God has to hit me on the head, or the elbow and the shoulder as the case may be, to get my attention.

So, in the tradition of all my fellow 12-steppers out there ... Hello, my name is Terrie, and I'm a stubborn, bull-headed, independent gal who needs to turn it all over to my Higher Power and trust Him to bring me down a few much-needed notches. And if it's OK with You, God ... could You maybe leave my elbow out of it next time?