I sit down in front of the computer this morning, and I start to write a grumpy post.

I sit down, feeling blah, and I start to write blah words. I write this:

I wake up this morning, tired and a little grumpy, and it’s just a lot of going through the motions while I make the breakfast and pack the lunch and check the calendar. I see the things planned and I add the things that weren’t and it’s another long list and another long day and I just can’t muster an ounce of excitement about any of it.

“Boo hoo,” I think.

If I were a cartoon character, a dark cloud would be forming above my head.

I can hear the advice in my mind. Take vitamins, or eat more of this or less of that, or exercise, or pray… meditate, nap, go for a walk, read your bible, be grateful, smile, think of those less fortunate, do something for somebody else, do something for yourself, do more, do less, do something.

I look at the true words I’ve written, and I am stuck. I don’t know where to go from these words to the words I want to write. I don’t quite know what to do with these words. I’m not sure they serve me well, or you either, for that matter.

Here’s the thing. I know, way down deep, where the feelings are coming from. Those I’m not enough feelings. You’ve felt them too, I bet.

She’s doing it better, having it easier, experiencing more joy, having more fun, making more of a difference. She’s got more friends, better relationships, happier children, more to look forward to. On and on and on. And on.

And the deeper I go, the deeper I get.

The truth is, my life is my life.

Actually, the real truth is, my life is His life.

So I stop, in the middle of all the words and threatening tears. I just stop and I bow and I open my hand to Him. I open my heart, just a tiny little crack, and I whisper a tiny word.

“Please,” I whisper.

I know that He knows what I mean.

I know that He can do something today with an open hand and a tiny crack and one little word.