Even though my Dad is a pharmacist, I avoid taking medicine if possible. If I have a cold, I’d rather be healed by oranges and naps. If I have pain, I’d rather take it like a man. Or whatever.
But occasionally I have a migraine so severe that the only cure is Excedrin. Especially if it’s in the middle of a workday, and I can’t turn the lights off. I think my decision to avoid pills is good. Because Excedrin makes me feel powerful, like I could take over the world. It gets rid of the searing pain in, like, 15 minutes. The commercials are real. But that’s also kind of disturbing, right? 15 minutes? What is this stuff made of? My reaction is also disturbing. I should not try to take over the world.
The world is an intensely dissatisfying, cruel place. Everywhere I turn, there’s some kind of monster. It’s not just in my mind. I had so much to do at work today, I cried. I couldn’t even come close to doing it all. Tomorrow is going to be really bad. This is something I consider to be a fact. It is not my perspective. I had to leave piles of work undone because my head hurt. My tyrannical impulses had not yet taken over.
I am also having other issues with the world. As we all are.
Money issues. (I want more). People issues. (What is your deal, everyone?) Personal issues. (If I want to lose weight I have to go to the gym all the time, and my legs are going to fall off. Hey, that’ll work…)
I wonder if Jesus is as exhausted by life as I am. I know the answer is an emphatic “NO”, but I can’t comprehend that.
They say He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. What does that mean, exactly? I guess He is so full of real life that the only way to describe it is to say He is “the Life.” I want His life, instead of mine. Doesn’t that sound nice? A trade. I want to trade. I’m tired.
His life, for mine.
Somehow, that’s what I’ve got.
I hope I remember tomorrow.