Invisible Blame

“I’ve waited long enough!”

“No one should have to be this patient!”

“Why does this world always do this to me?”

“I never have any luck!”

“I don’t see other people having these problems. Why do I?”

Do any of the above sound familiar? A friend? A family member? Maybe a sibling or even a spouse? Perhaps a fellow employee or someone you engage at the store–a clerk? Cashier? Teller?

When the going gets tough, do you know who’s to blame?

At one time or another, we’ve all been witness to fed-up, aggravated people throwing their hands up and expressing their frustration with life by blaming what I call “the elusive, invisible man.”

This “man” takes many forms in our mind. We may be referring to God or the Holy Spirit that moves here on Earth.

We may be blaming people from our past–like ex-husbands or wives who betrayed our marriages and made us unable to trust again.

We may be waging a personal war against a parent who left when we were young or a parent who did a poor job of raising us.

It may be a variety of people in our past. But whoever it may be, it becomes the personification of that which we curse when times are bad or things are relentlessly challenging.

We look to the skies and raise our fist. We smile the mocking grin and say, “Are you happy now?” As if Mother Nature herself put together a plan to make your particular life challenging and difficult.

The moment gets tough, and we shrug and say to our friend: “See? This is my life. Things never go right for me…”

Bob is a frustrated 35-year-old salesman. He sells auto parts. He got a business degree in college where he earned average grades. His parents had saved since he was born to put him through college and insure his future.

He was grateful and is respectful of them, but he also moved back home after college and lived with them for more than 10 years. He only recently got his own place; an efficiency apartment.

He got the auto parts sales job in his first year out of college, and once they gave him a company car and an expense account, he had a pretty free-wheeling time. Without having to pay rent or finance a car, all of his money was his to blow.

When business took him out of town for a few days, he could pay for the hotel out of pocket for an extra day or two and turn a Thursday business trip into a long weekend. He made friends and had acquaintances all over the country.

When he got home, he dumped his laundry in the basement, sat down to one of his mom’s good meals, and slept on the couch in front of the TV until Monday.

When management options came available, he readily turned them down because that would have put an end to his fun. Who wanted to get so serious so young?

But now he’s been with this company 13 years. Like his college grades, his numbers are average–not great, but not bad. Good enough to keep him employed.

But recently, a new territory opened up and his zone manager assigned it to one of the new kids–a 23-year-old who seems a bit more bushy-tailed than Bob.

As Bob rises on this particular Sunday morning and gazes at his aging face in the mirror, there’s a knock on the door. It’s the landlord. Bob is late with the rent and must give him at least $400 by Monday.

Bob closes the door and begins to dress to go to his parents’ house. He’s going to have to borrow the money from Mom again.

He looks in the mirror again as he puts on his coat.

“Why does this world always do this to me?”

“I never have any luck!”

“I don’t see other people having these problems. Why do I?”

Tamara is a single mom. Her son, Max, is the apple of her eye. His pictures adorn her cubicle. He is “her little man.” All the girls at the office fuss over him when Tamara brings him around.

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