No one wears me out as quickly as I do. As a dear friend of mine always says about herself, I get on my own nerves. For me, this is laughably (and sometimes tearfully) true of myself. If I irritate you, you oughta note how I feel about myself sometimes!
Could it be that our struggles are not to be wasted; but rather noted for a divine moment which, in reality, it seems we'd rather not experience? Could it be that our twists, our turns, our screams, and our angsts are birth pangs of yet another new birth called maturing? Theologian Alan Jones wrote, There is a self within each one of us aching to be born. Sue Monk Kidd immediately comments on Jones' note by saying, And when this aching breaks into our lives--whether through midlife struggle or some other crisis--we must somehow find the courage to say yes. Yes to the more real, more Christ-like self struggling to be born.
Be not dismayed at your own frailty. Rather, never cringe and never give up. The rough moments are divine tutors who are to lead us into the newly expanded more productive us. Everybody has a bad day. And those same everybodies are targeted by stress to build muscles of faith because we've got a world to reach.
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