I’ve been down a lot lately.
This is not a sympathy bid, because it is frankly embarrassing to me that I can’t seem to shake the urge to mope about some of my circumstances. I should be able to find hope in Him. I spend hours in scripture looking for that verse that will help. I spend time in prayer, though not as much as I should. I know, intellectually, that I should have joy, hope and peace, holding tight to the promises of God. I know that. I do.
I struggle anyway.
More often than not, my inspiration is a little more tangible, a little closer to home.
This is what inspiration looks like to me: Whatever professional setbacks I have, I am healthy. Whatever financial difficulties I face, she faces with me. She suffers silently with a debilitating and painful disease (fibromyalgia) that the world, in which victimhood is celebrated, would tell her justifies self-pity, that she should go on disability. But she gets up. It knocks her down, sometimes for days at a time in which the pain in her joints, in her muscles, everywhere… and she gets up. She keeps going.
She reminds me of one of my favorite inspirational movie moments ever, from Rocky Balboa:
So what’s my excuse again?
GET UP, YA BUM!