Lately, I’m tired. Really tired. Stupid tired. I’m tired of being tired. In fact, I’m so tired of being tired that this complaint about tiredness is boring even me. But I can’t ignore the fatigue: I drop things and spill things because I’m tired. I misplace things and forget things because I’m tired. I can’t compose a coherent thought because I’m tired.
And I’m irritable and impatient. Because I’m tired, right?
Enter Amy Carmichael’s gloss of Luke 6:45: “For a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted.”
Carmichael’s words leapt at me from the pages of Mark Driscoll’s latest book, Death by Love: Letters from the Cross (Book: Quickly and Partially Perused but Likely Recommended, with the Usual Lutheran Qualifications/Emphases/Addendums). Driscoll continues, The jolt does not change the water... The jolt only brings out of the container what is already there.
Likewise, if you are filled with sweetness and then jolted, only sweetness will come out. If you are filled with bitterness and then jolted, bitterness will come out. It is not the fault of the person who jolted you. The question is not ‘Can I prevent being jolted?’ since we all are, but ‘What is inside of me that will come out?’
Ok, fine. Time to quit with the tired “but monkey” (I’d be more patient, but I’m so tired…I wouldn’t be so cranky, but I’m just tired..) already and ’fess up to my sins so that I can receive the forgiveness I so desperately need, and save that precious little energy for actually practicing my faith instead of protecting my excuses.
Aside to those of you seeking a Christmas present for your Reverend Husband: If you’re willing to venture a walk on the wilder side, check out Driscoll’s Confessions of a Reformission Rev. Particularly noteworthy for Driscoll’s unique, er, counseling style (!).
4 comments:
I wish you'd quit making it so difficult for me to blame other people for all my unbecoming behavior.
Ha! And here's the worst part: those little people who so sorely test my patience, giving me all these wonderful opportunities to develop virtue, are also the very ones who keep me from sleeping. Can't I at least blame them for the tiredness, even if I can't blame the tiredness for the impatience? *Sigh.* Those dang but monkeys are legendary around here.
Oh dear. I'm filled with old sour cream and anchovies, I think . . .
Tired is a Problem. When you figure out how to make it Better please share your secrets. I'll pay you even. In brownies.
Will work for brownies! Specially with that magic cream cheese filling!
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