What is the most brutal reality of life? It’s this: It’s not about us. It’s not about you, and it’s not about me. If we don’t get laid or paid, it goes on in all it’s brutal beauty. It goes on to water and feed itself, the sweetness of it goes on as a mother nurses her child, as a father swims with his son off the rock-shore of an inlet. It goes on with or without us. How much of our beliefs, the Biblical and un-biblical that we cling to are really about convincing us that wherever we go, life goes. When we die, life will move to heaven? No, it will not. It will have been there, and when we go there it will remain here too. Gratitude, then, could be arrived at by joining life rather than pulling life around us like an applauding audience. It applauds for sure, but it isn’t clapping for us. It’s asking us to clap with it, in joinful joy. Donald Miller.
Before I read Donald Miller's blog, this is where my head was...
the cable guy forgot to hook my office TV when he was here, now I have to wait for him to come back.
the biggest snowstorm since 1985 is suppose to be here tomorrow by 5am, my days of sun are gone.
DH has his 12 hours day today, long day for me.
If you can't hear it, there is a bunch of whining going on there. After letting DM words soak in for a while, I felt ashamed. Really, I said to myself. the all about me thing hit too close to home. Way too close.
If we don’t get laid or paid, it goes on in all it’s brutal beauty.
Regrouped. Life is looking a bit different, yet nothing has changed. Cable guy still isn't here, sun is still shining and DH won't be home for hours. It is not that our circumstances have to change, it is us. Wow.
