More and more I am finding that there is less and less to laugh about. There is nothing that is funny anymore. So much crap and guff, and garbage all over the place. Nothing is funny.
Life grinds to a halt. The thorn in the flesh digs a little deeper, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that can be done about it. Up and down the ski-slope I go. Two steps forward and five steps back. Surely there is more to life than this?
This selfishness. This liberalism. This hatred of others. This extremism. This hopelessness. Surely there is someone or something worth it. Surely there is something that can be done.
I come to work and I go home. I have dinner. I watch some TV. I go to bed. I come to work … ad infinitum. The weekend arrives. I’m awake at 7am, I lie in for a while, I get up. Vacuum, watch some sport, Am tired at 10pm, go to bed. Get up. Go to church (most times). Nothing . . . Where is the meaning in this? Where is the point of it all?
We have little or no money. We are both working. Me, full-time, my wife part-time. We do ok, but it never seems to be enough. I want to do more – no necessarily have more, but do more. Be able to do more. not because I want to be noticed, more because so many people need help.
I’d like to give to all the charities, and people in need, but I can hardly give to one (!) I work for the SRA (Solicitors Regulation Authority). I’m here to help people. I feel good when I can help. When I can answer the questions they have. Solicitors, the public, trainees etc. There is something so fulfilling about being able to provide advice, help, direction, to others. Not for me, but for the fact of making someone else’s life better – even just a little bit. Then I can smile. Then I can sit back, and feel good about myself. I want to be useful. again, not for myself, per se, but for others.
I feel a failure so often. I look back on over 51 years of being alive and think – “What have I done?” What has been the point of my life? I have failed on so many different things. I love my wife to bits, but am I doing enough? Am I providing enough? Am I being a man?
There’s a joke that goes, “I don’t know how to act my age. I’ve never been this age before.” Yet I feel so pressurised to be a certain way. Do do certain things. Parents, family, friends, peers etc All have expectations of who and what I should be. Should I be worried about it. About them? Should I care? Have I done OK in my life? Am I succeeding? Do I worry too much? Should worry so much. I’m meant to be a Christian. What does Scripture say?
- “…casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7.
Why can’t I do this? Is it this straightforward?Am I able to do it? Am I willing to do it? Should I be doing more? Should I be trying harder? Am I failing? Am I a wimp? Am I a man?