Dodging Bullets

I rarely make mistakes anymore. Okay, yes, I burn the bread, stick my foot in my mouth, get too frustrated with my child, flake off when I need to work - these sorts of little mistakes run in rivulets through my day, bringing annoyance in their wake. But I rarely make the big, life-changing mistakes anymore. I'd love to say that it's because I've become so holy and wise, always in tune with the universe, always knowing the right answers. Yeah, that'd be great, I'll put it on the Christmas wish list and see if Santa's got an extra helping of "holy and wise" that he can drop down my non-existent chimney.

The truth is that I usually just end up dodging a bullet. Not that I'm trying to dodge the bullet, mind you: oftentimes I'm standing around with a bullseye painted on my chest, just waiting for the damn thing to go ahead and hit the mark. But then, often at the last possible second, God (or the universe, Life, my Higher Self, little invisible gnomes, whatever) throws up a force field around me, deflecting the bullet and leaving me bewildered. "But it's so good, I want it, why can't I have it?" I whine and moan, realizing only later - often much later - that yep, it was a bullet, and that once again I have been saved in spite of my own stupidity.

I can't count the number of times this has happened in my life. I can't count them because I'm pretty sure that there are episodes like this in my past that I still haven't recognized and others that I'll never be able to see. But I'm seeing more clearly these days, clearly enough to be grateful for all the times God has said "No" to my prayers. Maybe one day I'll get a little more holy and wise going on and I won't have to be saved from my own stupidity so regularly, but for now, I'll just be glad for force fields and shields of love that I can't explain, don't deserve and would be lost without.

Now, don't hold me to this if I go out and make some big-ass stupid life-changing mistake tomorrow...