It's not often, but it happens sometimes.
Plodding in miry clay.
Slogging in the slough.
Disheartened in daily life.
Such is now.
What I think I need is some time.
But, that kind of time does not exist right now.
Every minute, it seems, there is a task to start and finish.
Many of the tasks are self-imposed yet now trapped in a system that expects completion.
The only answer for now: Do the next thing.
Many will think and some will say to "Let go," "Take care of yourself," "You have too many self-expectations."
All that may be true, but I remember "My strength is sufficient for you."
And I think of all those who have been involved in monumental tasks, labors I could not do, and how they finished the job with a "Well done, my good and faithful servant."
So, my duty remains to do the next thing.
The life metaphor I've always thought of is I'm holding my oars in my little boat, floating down life's stream. Sometimes I use my oars for direction, sometimes balance. Sometimes I battle short distances of rough water with those oars, sometimes float without need of their assistance.
But now, those oars seem useless to steer or balance, but I dare not drop them. The water, violently rocking my boat, is often too swift to do anything but hold on. Such is life. Sometimes. The promise of calmer water is my hope. For rest and leisure.
For now, though, my skies are gray, my tasks are many, and my outlook . . . well, I'm just thankful I have an outlook. Without that, I'd have no hope.
Maybe with the next thing I'll see the sun peeking from behind a cloud.