Work was a real chore today.
It was as if all the joyful components had been removed, leaving me with the acute sense that this is ‘hard work’.
At first I considered the early hour to be the rationale for my uncomfortableness, yet I have functioned admirably on many occasions in this time zone.
So, how can this be? how can one day be so unlike the previous day? how can two days be so unhinged?
I have just awoke from a sleep, it is early afternoon and the sun is radiant, blazing galactic heat through the window, adding texture to my mahogany skin, yet my body is fighting to remain in a position of slumber.
I really am baffled, I have grown accustomed to the variety of work loads my job presents.
There have been moments where the maximum output I am able to produce is reached, there are times when there are insufficient utensils at hand to manage the physical demands, and there are instances where ‘No’ is the only suitable response to the requests made.
By the way, I am a chef, preparing delicious foods consumed at inappropriate speeds by inconspicuous mouths.
Yet, I really cannot understand the days emotional melee, you see, the job is exquisite, it is perfect for my abilities, it is perfectly aligned to my culinary skills and challenging enough to massage my ego. . .It is as if the Lord has handed me a role that functions perfectly within His master plan. . .’fascinating’. .
I’m sat on a rickety bench, who’s grubby upholstery looks extremely neglected, and I am consuming a beverage from a polystyrene cup. Interestingly, the cups exterior advertisement informs me that it is now spring!. . .’marvellous’.
I really want to understand todays situation, to avert a repetition emerging tomorrow.
You see, my attitude resembled an acute case of irritable bowel syndrome, cramps, bloating and severe constipation, with each element straining to prevent the love and gentleness amassed within me from emerging.
As I reflect on my speech today, and conduct, embarrassingly I recall the barbed retorts when pressurised situations arose, and my mind is drawn to the possibility that tiredness was the motive for this mornings conundrum.
Thats it. . .
I must make time to rest sufficiently . . .
Now I understand, tiredness was the guilty cavity, consuming all that was good about my employment.
Yet, I must take my share of responsibility, you see. . . I had become too tired to fight
I had forgotten how to fight, how to place on the armour of the Lord, to withstand against the schemes of those who thrive on a constipated attitude, void of love and the ability to enjoy all that is good.
I had forgotten that I work not for myself, but for the one who employed me in His cosmic workforce, and as I considered this revelation, I sensed a steely determination begin to emanate from my inner being, I sensed the ability to love again.
I am now ready to fight, I am now ready to face tomorrow with a sense of adventure and expectation.
But first, I must give in and allow the flesh to proceed on its path towards slumber . . .