I was really prepared to write something grumpy; though today has been pretty good (we finished production at 5:20! That’s almost a normal quitting time!), I’m all out of sorts, at least partially because I haven’t taken Enbrel or MTX in two weeks because I’ve been sick.
But before I decided to unleash an angst-ridden post reminiscent of the Live Journal of a 15-year-old girl, I decided to check my email. And found this:
Life’s Greatest Risk
Excerpt from John 12:20-36
“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
Reflection by Ron Buford
A friend complained about his mom, a wealthy woman who wanted for nothing…but was miserable. “It’s a living hell,” was her constant refrain while shaking her downcast head, when even life’s smallest things went wrong. This so bothered my friend that their time together was difficult.
Dressed up and driving to a party with the same friend one evening, we caught every green light along the way, sailing as if on a magic carpet. Finally, a red light stopped our flying.
I turned, looked at my well-dressed friend and passenger and with mocking tone and gesture said, “It’s a living hell.”
Laughing, we pulled over and rolled out of the car. From that day forward, when minor things went wrong, in unison we’d say, “It’s a living hell,”…and laugh. The phrase helped us see the relative ridiculousness of our angst, swimming on lakes of privilege. It also helped my friend suspend judgment with his mom. Anticipating her phrase, laughing, he began to say it for her, “I know mom, it’s a living hell.”
And then one day, instead of saying it, his mom actually laughed at herself. My friend let his old adolescent relationship with his mom die. A new adult peer-to-peer relationship was born. Both son and mom were set free. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
Gracious God, there are things in my life that need to die in order for my life to bring forth a bumper crop of joy. Help me see what blocks joy in my life so that my life may glorify you today. It’s time Lord, it’s time. Amen.
(Source: UCC Daily Devotionals).
Well, that just turned my bad mood inside out. So, I’m deciding to be in a better mood for the rest of tonight (as short as that may be) and tomorrow, too. Because when the tiniest things go wrong, they can add up to what feels like a catastrophe—even though it’s not.
It’s a living hell, eh?