Another day of work done. The meal eaten. Dishes to my right; wrinkled clothes to my left, long neglected from a previous day’s wash. I sit here for a moment to rest from another long, hard day. Alone as usual, a familiar, even comfortable state through all these years. The routine takes over by default, but then is stopped, jolted off its tracks.
I stare at the empty wall in silence thinking.
Could I have been more generous in my kindness toward the co-worker who obviously is distressed of late? How might I have reached out with an extra measure of effort?
That anger I felt toward yet another reckless driver, was it justified in its intensity? Or is something different at work, originating in my own capacity for sin?
The empty wall fills with images from the day, the week, the previous months….
And I remember
I weep for opportunities lost because of the hardness of my heart and my insistence on navigating life’s pressures on my own, despite token efforts to make a show of transparency.
Yet, I retain hope. God’s grace. Freely given. Completely undeserved. Desperately needed.
Such an understanding shines a penetrating light on temptation, revealing it for what it really is. Nails disguised as pleasure and designed to mock the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus.
I repent. I cry out to God. In desperation. And then in thankfulness as I realize I am not alone after all.
He was here all along. Guiding me to this point
As I sit in silence thinking….