It isn't the big surprises and shock that wears me down. It is not the sudden calamities. It is the every day, mundane routine. The mind-numbing robotic movements, the ease with which I fall into a rut, a habit, doing all the little things and performing all the simple tasks that I can do without even a thought or a care, moving like an automaton through my day without even a whispered prayer for assistance to my Lord and Savior. The taking for granted-ness of relying on my own resources, my own capabilities.
Cancer, heart attacks, house fires, premature babies, car accidents--those are hard, sure, but like a huge weight falling on my chest, they take my breath away so suddenly I am forced to fall on my knees and look up, up to the hills from where my help comes from. And He is there for me, and my friends in Christ are there with me, lifting me and my needs up to the heavens in prayer and supplication.
But the day-in, day-out grind of preparing meals, making the bed, walking dogs, doing housework and laundry, taking out the trash, cheering up the convalescing, reassuring the lonely, staying connected, being thankful...it is these little boring, unexciting, daily frustrations that can suffocate me with their blandness. Like little bits of sand they get in my eyes, irritate my skin, getting on everything. I try to sweep it up, clean it up, blow it off the furniture, rinse it out of my eyes, and then I realize it is harder to get rid of thousands of grains of sand than it is to move one rock. Unless I rely on the Lord. For with one small breath, He can clear it all away, or shield me and make me stronger.
In all things I must give thanks. In all circumstances I must rely on Him, and look up to the hills. And I must glorify Him in everything I do. For that is my reason for being.
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