Hello Whoever May Be Reading…
I am tired. Not a simple “stayed-up-too-late-watching-a-movie” tired, but a profound weariness in my soul. Something that saps the strength from my limbs, and motivation from my heart. Don’t worry overly much (I am not, for the simple reason that it is merely the end of a semester and so much new has been encountered in my life, and I have dealt with so much that is nearing an final and decisive end).
Hope glimmers ever true, and Christmas break approaches, and with it, my close family and times of sleep and relaxation, such that I have not know for quite some time.
Though the metaphor of a race is oft apropos, I instead think that I cannot walk, let alone run, and feel that the best example of what I feel I must do is a Frodo crawl up the slopes of Mount Doom. I am not without my Samwise, better, Rosie, and this makes my heart sing. I would not have got far without her.
I praise God in all, and through all, for as James says, these are the things which make us strong before the Lord, in faith and trust. I do not wish for a more comfortable life, for how would I therewith be able to rely on my King?
I must also remember, I asked for this. You see, I pray that God would make me who I should be, but then, I pray too for deliverance. But God, in infinite wisdom, answers the first and not the second, knowing that I will be refined as gold when it is all said and done. Haha. The Eternal Bling! Anyway, I seek to grow through all of these hard and tiring times.
Consider this:
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, ‘mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!His brow was sad; his eye beneath,
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright;
Above, the spectral glaciers shone,
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
excelsior is Latin, translated as “ever higher” and this is a fitting motto, for the time left to me, do you not agree?
