Christmas Relatives Show Their Butts

How can you stand her? The aunt/uncle/brother/sister/ mother/father/drama queen rears his or her ugly head and we ask that question. Here is how I figure it:

Ninety-nine percent of the time, the problem is me. The other one percent doesn't matter.

What I mean to say is that most of the time when I'm upset, I am the problem. Things are not as I think they should be. People are not doing what I think they should. I am not getting what I think I want or need or deserve.

The universe is perfect. God has been running it for eons without my help, and seems to have a good handle on it. If things don't go my way, it is because they are supposed to go some other way. Plan B is always better; I just never think of it first. When God is in charge nobody loses.

And the one percent of the time when I'm right? Who cares? I ask myself would I rather be right, or would I rather be happy. I noticed a while back that being happy gives me a lot more mileage than being right.

So how can I stand the raging banshee who never does what I think she should, and never treats me with the respect that I think I deserve? It's easy. I try to remember that people are most unlovable when they need love most, and then I try to remember who is in charge. Then I do my best to love her.