Some days I feel broken. It is Easter, and I know that my Redeemer lives, but I am a doll on a shelf. I am worn out and waiting to be repaired. It is difficult for me to push through these moments. It is precisely during this time that I must persevere in prayer and patience. As a do-er, this waiting has always been difficult for me. I long to force a positive outcome. If I just push harder, try harder, I can move mountains. Who am I to move mountains? If I have faith the size of a mustard seed, God will work through me. God moves mountains. I am merely the messenger.
When I see the Heavens, the work of your hands, the moon and the stars which You arranged, what is man that You should keep him in mind, mortal man that You care for him? Yet You made him little less than a god; with glory and honor You crowned him, gave him power over the works of your hand, put all things under his feet ... How great is Your Name, O Lord our God, through all the earth! Psalm 8: 4-7, 10
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