It was an enduring day, where my spirit drooped and mood continually sunk. I was tired and crabby and anything that could go wrong did. I tried to press on, to do the next thing, but little annoyances kept poking, irritating, defeating. Exhausted and overwhelmed, I wondered what good could possibly come from a day like this. All I could think was, "It's too much, God."
On an enduring day, I feel like God's abandoned me, like He doesn't care. My head knows what's true, but my feelings can't catch up. I pray through tears and ask God where He is and He answers gently.
Enduring days certainly aren't pleasant, but are they God's discipline? Are they teaching us where we stand in the world? Are they training us to trust in what we can't see? Are they making us stronger, more durable? Do they help us learn to press on?
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
It's hard to see how broken down cars and weary bodies and confrontations and busy schedules and dinners that don't get done and weepy hormones reap righteousness. How can enduring possibly make me peaceful?
If I can ride the wave of a bad day or week or month or season, aren't I learning a deeper trust in God? If I trust more, do I worry less? Isn't that peace? If I press on though I don't feel it, aren't I displaying faith in action? If I can do it in a little thing like a bad day, can I do it in harder things? Isn't He teaching me to act rightly, no matter what the circumstance?
Enduring days aren't pleasant and frankly sap the energy right out of me, but the promise of great reward--a harvest of righteousness and peace--may help me get through them.
One moment at a time.
How do you make it through your enduring days?
Photo Credit: jawshouamoua