It's one of those days.
The kind where everything surges, leaving me overwhelmed
The kind I try to avoid, try to suppress, try to muster my energy to fight back
But somehow, today it's not working.
When others ask how I am, I answer, "Fine"
When they question my aloofness, I smile
When they push for honesty I hesitate
There they express concern, I thank them.
Why is it, Lord, that there are days like this?
Do I dare ask? Do I really want to know?
In my mind's eye,
I rehearse other overwhelmed strugglers
Like Moses, fed up with exasperating fellow wonderers,
Like Hannah, praying so earnestly she was deemed drunk
Like Jeremiah, lamenting the cruel fate of his people
Like Mary, stung by unclear words of her 12-year-old.
Such stories, in a powerful way, confront and comfort
They remind me again that my view is, at best, partial
That my story, like everyone3's story is ongoing and unfolding
That paradoxically, being overwhelmed and insecure can be a statement of faith
That such days serve as a corrective balance to overlooked schedules that fail to reflect on Your
Lord, it is good to be alive, sustained by Your
Spirit, recognizant of Your mercy, justice and love.
For the times You restore my soul, with or without my prayer to do so
I stand truly grateful and amazed.
May Your creation forever proclaim Your caring ways.