I awoke in a glum mood. I’ve faced a mountain of problems lately, some of which seem too big to overcome, some of which appear unsolvable. I prayed for a while, rather aimlessly, then turned on the computer to play a mindless game.
Click! Click! Click! I pointed my mouse at the shining gems and watched as they combined and exploded. I’m so tired, Lord, I thought, I’m so weary of struggling and trying and not seeming to get anywhere.
Click! Click! Click! It was soothing to reduce the world to a screen. It was comforting to be in an environment where the worst that could happen was that I’d have to hit “Play Again.”
Lord, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to handle my problems. I don’t know what you want of me, and it doesn’t seem like you’re making it clear.
Click! Click! Click! The gems fell, my prayers went up, and nothing seemed to change. Then I heard a voice in my head say, “Let’s start here: Is this how I want you to use the day I’ve given you?”
Oh. No, probably not.
I went to get a cup of coffee. Then I sat on the sofa and sipped and prayed more deliberately. Soon my thoughts turned to how people handled weariness in the days before screens. They knit or painted or did simple chores; they went for long walks or visited others. They wrote letters, sang woeful songs, whittled toys for their children. In short, they did something quietly fruitful.
Be fruitful, I thought.
“Yes,” came the answer.
Be fruitful. Produce. Help others. Do the simple things that need to be done.
“Yes,” came the answer.
OK, Lord. I will be fruitful. For you.