Another morning run, pushing myself mile after mile. Wanting to give up, wondering why I try at all. I beg my legs to take me just another mile, even though it’s up hill, even though my strength is gone and my legs are burning. Drenched in sweat I walk the last few blocks and sigh with relief that it’s over for today. In the house I am greeted by dishes undone, laundry waiting to be folded, and the sounds of life stirring upstairs. Usually I would launch into a mental list of complaints. Last night I had my own little whine fest about all the things about our life that I thought would be different by now.
Today I try again. Start over. My mind washed clean by the early morning. Lord, have mercy.
This is my prayer. When I don’t think I can make it one more step, Lord, have mercy.
When I can’t stand one more fight with my daughter over things I cannot change (like the weather, what day of the week it is) and pray, Lord, have mercy.
When inspite of our economizing my husband’s continued hard work there never seems to be enough money for what we need. When the children’s increasing needs in size and appetite outpace our resources; Lord, have mercy.
When I don’t want to cook one more dinner and watch my daughter refuse to eat it. When I’ve changed my third poopy diaper before 10 AM, when I just wish I could go back to bed. When I need a vacation and know it will probably be years until we get another one. The one who holds the power of life and death in his hands hears my complaints and petty concerns.
Lord, have mercy on me. I don’t deserve the blessings I’ve been given. You deserve more gratitude than I could ever offer. I ask for the strength to get through the challenges of this day and beg your sustaining grace as I look to the future.