There is a fence in our back alley that has caught my attention recently. It has tried real hard to keep things together.

I have noticed that in the hustle and bustle of life, ministry, and the pursuit of happiness, I just can’t seem to juggle well enough to pass as efficient. As soon as I get one thing up and running, another is falling and begs for my attention.

You see, in high school I came to a scary realization that days no longer had enough significance and that as they blurred together I could only make out weeks–this week being a good one, two weeks ago being tough. As I entered college, weeks seemed to at first get a little fuzzy with moments of clarity… only to attain official blur status by the time my junior year rolled around.

Now I am blinking hard to figure out what exactly happened in January.

My supervisor, Marcus, pointed out after listening to me self-diagnose that as an adult this is kind of expected. As months blur, we can look to seasons and expect God to outline in even greater detail his intentions for a moment, day, week, month, and even year(s). I admit I like this idea, but still fear that I will wake up tomorrow with a few good sayings as my 73 birthday around the corner.

So again, as I run down my alley starting out on a jog, I pass my friend the fence. We seem to share a lot in common–the understanding that life is going to give you more than you can handle, that generally it takes more than one strike to keep things standing, and that having a plank or two down is not the end of the world. It reminds me I am not perfect; I am not in charge; I fail more than I succeed.

A plank down is humility up, and I am okay with that. In fact, it kind of produces a toothy grin–and people trust that kind of smile : )