Feeling Sorry for Myself

Yes, I was actually feeling sorry for myself today. Today, a spring Saturday, I had to work an extra long day. And then I hurried home to run off to Saturday night church, so that I could put in another long day tomorrow working on other folks’ homes. Playing with mud of course can be lots of fun, but some times too much of a good thing can become a drag. It can wear on a person, not only physically, but also mentally. Thus, the F.S.F.M.

I could have attributed my condition to the conditions outside, namely rain, rain, and more rain. The gray clouds have not only been a common sight, but quite literally the only sight I can remember as I look heavenward. And with the fine polished finish upon my head, I’m very much in tune to the presence of precipitation. God might be able to easily count the hairs upon my head, but I can easily count the raindrops per second upon my scull. The rain, the cold, the brisk winds—all occurring in a May which was followed by one of the warmest Aprils on record. And I was away from home, buried deep in white mud that needed to be strategically placed on many walls and ceilings.

I was working. It was raining. In Minnesota, today is the fishing opener. And I was feeling sorry for myself. But then the revelation came!

I did not have to fish! Thank God, literally, that I was not held captive in some wet aluminum boat, surrounded by inebriated “pals” holding onto a cold pole, while staring out into the gray waters below.

I did not have to fish today. And I don’t have to fish tomorrow. And I didn’t have to park on some crowded freeway trying to arrive at a favorite fishing lake somewhere in the hinterlands of this fair state. And I won’t have to fight traffic Sunday evening with a bunch of smelly guys.

So now I am glad. My condition has improved. Having “done church” this evening, I can head off to work in the morning (without a fishing pole) and be glad, and grateful for the day the Lord will make.