Being stuck in life’s motel

Sometimes life just sucks.

That’s the conclusion my grandma and I came to Saturday during our weekly phone call. (By the way, if you aren’t calling your grandma at least once a week, you’re doing it wrong. If you don’t have a grandma to call, let me know and you can call mine. She’d dig it.)

But seriously, there are a lot of times when life just kicks your tail and no one person may know this better than my grandma.

Not long ago, and within roughly a year’s time, the lady lost a husband, a son, a nephew and a brother-in-law. She had her tail kicked by life to an exhausting degree, but yet somehow didn’t let it shake her or her faith. In fact she probably had more faith in the midst of all that than I have on a day at a water park.

Saturday we were talking about life sucking because she’d had a rough week with some medical stuff. Nothing super serious, but sucky none the less.

She was unfazed.

I think that’s because my grandma gets that our world here is a motel room, and sometimes it’s a lot more second-row Myrtle Beach motel than oceanfront Palm Springs.

We’ve all been there. To that crappy motel where you sleep on top of a beach towel on top of the bed spread and pray the owner spent more money on the door chain than he or she did on TV remote that’s only working button is the up channel button. Seriously, you miss your station, you gotta cycle through all of them and just hope you catch it the next time around.

Everyone ends up in one of these places at least once in life and probably a lot more than once if you spend any time in a youth group.

It sucks, but you just deal with it because you know it’s only temporary. Unlike the guy at the end of the row who is camped out for good and has attached a screen door to his room, you know sooner or later you’ll be headed home and will be able to shower without wearing your swimsuit.

This world is a lot like that. It’s a fallen place that occasionally can make us feel like we’re sitting in the middle of the awkwardly stained floor at the Tropical Oasis.

Now I’m not saying everything about life here sucks, there are plenty of great and wonderful things about this place. But it occasionally it does suck and I think it’s OK to admit that.

It’s not OK, however, to lose sight of the fact that our checkout time from the suckiness will eventually come.

Eventually we’ll get to pack it up and head home and that should give us enough hope to sleep a little more soundly on top of that beach towel.


About travman44

I work as a reporter for a newspaper in southwest Virginia. I play as a writer specializing in deep thoughts on shallow, and occasionally not so shallow, subjects. I'm also a former history teacher, bible college alum, and lover of the NBA and kids' breakfast cereals. It's a delicate blend. -- @TravisKWilliams on Twitter
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