The quiet grace of being mildly exhausted (and thankful)
We wake up every day and valiantly attempt to be the best versions of ourselves or, often, just functioning versions. We spend our precious hours ticking off a thousand small, repetitive acts. The alarm clock, the first sip of that criminally overpriced coffee, the inevitable gridlock commute, the Herculean effort of answering an email that just says “Thanks.”
These ordinary moments, stacked high like slightly burned roti, form the intricate and often hilarious masterpiece we call life. And yet, beneath this frantic, slightly ridiculous routine, there lies a quiet, almost obnoxious majesty, a majesty we owe entirely to a guiding hand.
The divine tapestry (featuring lint)
We are constantly told that life is a grand narrative. Perhaps it is, but we are certainly the confused lead actors. The beauty is that this grand, messy production is not self-directed; it is a densely woven, occasionally snagged tapestry designed by the Lord. Each thread is a moment, a flash of truly spontaneous laughter (the kind that makes your stomach hurt), the dull, persistent ache of realizing we left the keys inside, and the simple, grounding feeling of lint accumulating in our pockets.
We are trained to only value the threads of high drama, the promotion, the wedding, the moment we finally achieve peak wellness. But the threads that actually hold this whole, messy thing together are the silent blessings of grace under pressure, quiet consistency, and the radical decision to just try again tomorrow, given the strength from above. We thank the Lord not just for the peaks, but for sustaining us through the plains.
- The late-night conversation you had only after surviving the workday, a conversation placed in your path for a reason.
- The unexpected burst of sunlight that ruins your nap, a small reminder of the light.
- The sheer, stubborn persistence to show up, day after day, for a passion or a person, which is itself a gift of tenacity.
These foundational acts are the scaffolding of our existence, erected and maintained by divine permission.
The art of becoming (and humility)
Every person you meet is an unfinished work of art, which is a way of saying we’re all a little bit broken and perpetually confused, yet still loved. We’re accumulating scars, lessons and hidden reserves of strength, usually in the form of caffeine and prayer. Life is the studio, and experience is that annoying editor who always insists on a rewrite, but the author of the story knows the final draft.
Look at the face of an elderly person. It is a map of trials and joys, each line etched by a thousand smiles and the unavoidable realization that they were worried about the wrong things, concerns that were ultimately too small for His infinite care. This is a testament to the courage it takes to stay alive and still enjoy a decent meal, and to the profound resilience inherent in the human spirit, gifted to us for this journey.
We are not defined by our circumstances, but by the small, glorious spaces we create within them. We find freedom not in escaping the constraints of life, but in choosing our response to them, recognizing that even the strength to choose is a mercy.
Ultimately, the great beauty of a life is its solitary yet shared nature. We walk our own unique path, occasionally tripping over the same obstacles as everyone else, all under the same sky. We are bound by the universal experiences of hope, struggle and the deep human need for connection, recognising that every connection is a blessing.
We are all looking for a place to belong, a purpose to serve, and, let’s be honest, a little bit of magic to distract us from the laundry. But true magic is simply witnessing the miracle of the daily routine, given to us one day at a time.
So, take a moment today to look around you, not at the grand spectacles of the world, but at the quiet, slightly frazzled, and steady beat of the life unfolding right now. See the effort, the occasional tenderness, and the incredible, fragile beauty of the people moving around you, and, most importantly, the person looking back from the mirror, who is utterly dependent on and thankful for the grace of the Lord.
This is the quiet majesty. This is the enduring, breathtaking, and mildly stressful column of a blessed human life.
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