Walking through this latest season of pandemic surge, I had not been able to shake loose this dark cloud I felt over me. I went about my usual things: prayer, Bible reading, exercise, work, family time, even summer fun times. None of them settled this dust bowl I was in. It’s been swirling around me, pulling me into its filth and blinding me from seeing anything good. I knew it was there and I didn’t like it, yet I could not escape. It took some time to realize the reason for my entrapment. The problem wasn’t the dirty vortex of opinions, accusations, and misinformation that seem to continuously spin around as we debate politics, masks, vaccines, and international terrorists. What was tethering me in my position was not an external force, it was an internal choice to remain pissed off.
Today, what are you expecting? I’ve come to expect a lot of things. As many of us prepare to send our kids back to school in the most unusual ways, we expect frustrations and unknown challenges. I’ve admittedly been dreading this year, and my attitude has shown it. The thought of my children spending one more minute alone on their Chromebooks makes me want to scream. At least it did, until God woke me up with two words: expect me.