Pain And Shame

I shuffled to the kitchen where the microwave displayed 4:16 am on its bluish green LED, rummaged through the cupboard and retrieved a couple of naproxen.  As I drew a glass of cold water from the dispenser my thoughts were of my grandmother and how much I was beginning to appreciate her constant complaining about her little aches and pains. The twinge from my sciatic nerve, the Plantar Fasciitis stab in my heel and the sharp jab from the torn meniscus in my knee made me wonder…wonder just how in the world did Jesus do it.  How on earth did he do what he did…and never complained? 

I shuffled back to my warm cozy bed confident in the thought that all was going to be OK.

Dear Lord Jesus,

Sometimes I think I am insane.

When life and living become a strain

It seems so hopeless and in vain

When I grumble and complain.

All because I am so vain

Filled with pride and disdain.

Causing you so much pain.

What is it I hope to gain?

The meaning of why you were slain

I understand in my shame

Only because of my tiny pain

That sends the message to my brain

So this I ask you once again

In my life please remain.

I pray my love will not wane

For in my heart YOU must reign.

Amen.