When I'm down in the gutter, I am lucky to have serious moments of awakening in the past. The joy of resurrection. Countless were the times when I was at the end of the rope, at the end of the road, facing an empty wall, at the point of breaking, at rock bottom.
For the last two weeks, I had nothing but troubles (which I fondly call opportunities to lessen the impact). One unresolved crisis after another. Drawbacks and setbacks piling on top of each other. Sleep has become an elusive friend; appetite an unfaithful lover.
As usual, when everything has been exhausted, when every friend who matters has been consulted, when all the courage to face the boss has been summoned and there is no one else to go to and nothing else humanly possible can be done, you bend your knees and pray finally. Swallowing your executive pride, you ask God for help. You let go and yes, you let God.
A few hours later, you find yourself an audience to a movie of things falling into place. Suddenly every thing takes form and makes sense.
And you become free. And yes, happy. And thankful.
This is life lived. This is life with a little help from above.
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