The summer morn I'm still sighing for...

Most people I know will say that a general weariness of everything they are and everything around them is not a particularly uncommon problem. Even if one reads through this blog that has spanned just over two months, they (particularly those who know me well) will probably be able to identify the days we're I've felt weary and frustrated...and there are several scattered throughout even that small period. Today is another one of those days. I've been going and going and going, doing what I sometimes feel like is nothing in particular, and now I just want to collapse on the floor.

What is wrong? Nothing. What is that thing with which I want to shake my fist at heaven and complain? Nothing. What even is that thing which I want to bring to Christ's mercy seat? Honestly, nothing. I'm not discontent. There's nothing in my life I'm pointing to and saying, "This needs to change", unlike even several days ago. I just feel strangely...tired, and...worn out. I feel like I'm travelling an endless road that, like all other endless roads must, by definition, go nowhere. I know that isn't the case, of course, but it feels like that sometimes. Why keep fighting the good fight if the good fight has no end in sight?

It occurs to me that maybe I'm still staring at my garment and not on my bridegrooms' face. That seems to be a constant problem for almost every believer. Maybe the road seems endless merely because I walk it so slowly. Of course I know that eventually the task will be done and the ransomed saints will throng up the streets of light (to reference a different song). But in the meantime, I'm sitting here and working and waiting. And the work and the wait all too often seem endless.

Luke