Do you ever get sick of yourself? I did the other day.
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I was headed home for the afternoon, and in a rotten mood. You see, my Greek class is basically the biggest stressor in my life right now – it’s an intense course and requires a ton of work to keep up, and the professor just keeps piling new stuff on. For example, this past week we had a test on Monday and a quiz on Thursday, and in class yesterday after our quiz she announced we were having another quiz the next class period (Monday) followed immediately by another test on Tuesday. Arrrgggghhhh…
Prayers would be greatly appreciated.
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Anywho, that was largely the reason I was in such a nasty mood – which doesn’t happen too often. I was driving home and complaining to the air about nearly any little thing that crossed my mind. I caught myself just as I was parking my car, hung my head and apologized to God. And He reminded me of a few things:
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What right do I have to complain about anything? There I sat, whining about a silly little class that won’t mean squat in the long run (as I greatly realized the other day), when there are countless people who can’t even afford to go to school.
How often do we as Americans take for granted all of the things that we have? I know I’m guilty. Think just for a minute about everything you have. Or better yet, conjure up a list in your head of the things you’d like to have.
Funny, that’s a bit easier to do, isn’t it?
We have people in America praying for those in the third-world countries of the world because they have so little. Did you know there are people in those countries praying for America because we have so much? It’s true.
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More than once even in the past week I can recall myself complaining about how sick I am of fast food. My gosh, Josh, have you forgotten what you saw in Africa? Was it really so long ago? I should fall on my knees and thank God for McDonalds, for the wide availability of it, and for the money I have to pay for it. And when I’m done with those prayers, beg for forgiveness.
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That reminds me. Africa. Goodness, I’ve been to Africa! I was there! Sometimes it still seems like a dream, a television show, a national geographic I skimmed through. Sometimes, like yesterday when I realized all of the complaining I was doing, I can’t help but wonder . . . what did I really learn? Did I learn?
Sure, of course. I went, I saw, I learned. But did it stick?
I saw the poorest of poor. People who truly don’t know when their next meal will be. Poverty you cannot imagine unless you’ve been someplace like that yourself. You just can’t.
And here I sit complaining because I have to eat another greasy burger for 89 cents.
Lord, I want to go back. I miss Africa. Forgive me for forgetting.