Calling it a Night

Talking to mom always helps.

Even when she tells you that the stress doesn't get better. ;-) No really, it helped.

Some people don't even have that. A mom. Indeed, my situation could be much dire-er (go with it). I know that. But it wouldn't have been an anxiety attack if had been thinking rationally. I'm going to bed confident that I've done what I can for tonight. Here is the kicker:

"Then I thought in my heart

'the fate of the fool will overtake me also.

what then do I gain by being wise?'

I said in my heart

'this too is meaningless.'

For the wise man, like the fool, will not long be remembered;

in days to come both will be forgotten.

Like the fool, the wise man too must die."

-Ecclesiastes 2:15-16

Not exactly the exam week pick me up I was looking for, you know. Like when your mom basically tells you life doesn't get easier from here, anyway, so deal. (it was nicer than that in conversation, and she did assure me that she'd be on the first flight here to help me deal. If she wasn't, you know, dealing with her own stuff).

But read on.

"What does the worker gain from his toil? I have see the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil-- this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him." - Ecclesiastes 3:9-14

Revere Him tonight, I do. Because without it, without him, there is zero satisfaction in typing 20 pages of notes and reading hundreds of pages about the honor system of Latin America and revolutionary motivations of the working class during the 18th Century. Ziltch satisfaction.

But he makes everything beautiful in its time. Fabulous essays tomorrow or not so much, what God does is what endures. I'm not adding to it.

Or. (this is what brings me peace). taking from it.

God brings significance to my work, not vice versa. I cannot fathom what He has done. He, meanwhile, sits ready to honor what I have done if I choose to revere his omnipotence.

And so, God, I do. And with that I'm calling it a night. What more can I do?