My mother was right: I do “want everything handed to me on a silver platter.” As I come up against the seemingly relentless flow of obstacles in our life, my immediate emotional response demonstrates the validity of her indictment. I am ashamed to admit it, because I want to be someone who joyfully strives against those little problems that keep me from that for which I hope, unabashed by the energy needed to succeed. However, I am instead that little girl who stomps her feet and says, “That’s not fair!” when more than the minimum effort is required of me.
Why cannot the doors open noiselessly and smoothly by a gentle turn of the knob onto a better life? Why must there be so much pounding and pushing, trying of many keys, and then, after all has been tested and the door is yet un-budged, moving along the dingy, dark corridor of life to find some other portal to brighter days?
The reason escapes me, but the reality does not. However much I resent it, it is our situation.
God forgive my ungratefulness.
I confess that I forget that I am blessed with the hands to knock on those doors, to pry at their edges, and to try the keys.
I confess that I take for granted the eyes that let me see through the dimness of the corridor.
I confess my failure to appreciate and celebrate that I am not alone in this struggle.
I confess that by my hopelessness I succumb to losing faith; I distrust the One who leads, blaming You for not being obvious instead admitting my own failure to seek guidance.
Savior, please forgive me. Please help me.