Tuesday, 17 February 2015

Weak (Psalm 6:2)

I'm losing my mind and I'm losing my voice.  Incessant whining and selfish entitlement are sucking me dry.  How did they get so irritating, self-centered, unlikable?  I raise my voice in frustration more times than I am willing to admit.  Because I know I am supposed to be patient, be kind, model love, and model grace.  I am the adult, the parent, the role model, the bigger person.  I know this time is short and these battles will drift away too quickly.  I know my time of influence is so limited and so critical.  I know what I want to be to them.  I know what I want to teach and instill.  But they hover and grumble and demand and never stop.  And I am just so weak.  I don't deserve this responsibility.  I don't have enough to give.  I am so weak to resist the impulse to be aggravated again.

With the psalmist I cry out, "Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am weak."

And then I praise with all the confidence this pitiful soul can muster today, "Thank You, O Lord, that (of all the options) You respond to my weakness with mercy.  Thank You, Lord.  Thank You, Lord."

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