I was up early this morning, thinking about everything that needs to be fixed before we can sell our apartment. As I was pouring my second cup of coffee, I was hit with an “I don’t wanna!” moan of weariness. Sometimes I get plain tired of plugging ahead.
Lord, I sighed, Can’t I have a break here?
It occurred to me that I’d just had a break.
I’m so tired of this! Really, it shouldn’t have to be this hard.
It occurred to me that my definition of hard is a bit warped. I am not, after all, an Israelite dragged away from my homeland, working as a slave in Babylon with no hope of seeing my family again.
Then it occurred to me that whenever I want to give up, it’s never the Spirit whispering, “This is way too hard! Better stop.”
I put my coffee cup down and looked at that spot in the ceiling where I often focus when I talk to God. Okay, Lord, I sighed, I know You’ll give me the strength. Perhaps the problem is only that what I need is the will to do the work you’ve given me to do.
