We all have our share of problems. How often have we heard this statement, and how true is it?
Last night I imagined how this works. I imagined, to maintain my sanity and sense of humor, that in heaven there is someone assigned to apportion people's "shares" of problems. I imagined this little angel's daunting task is to cue people's assigned problems, and to press the release lever once a problem is solved on earth, and the next one meant for a particular person becomes due.
I imagined writing a petition last night, to be seen up in heaven, saying,
"Halt! Wait! I think you read the wrong charts. You accidentally sent me more than my fair share of problems. These huge ones, the latest you approved for release this week, are not supposed to be mine. Most likely, they belong to that guy over there whose only problem is how to keep his sports car shiny everyday, or that lady I saw on the newspaper whose main preoccupation is to look pretty and acquire the latest 'must-have' bag. Not me.
"Oh, no, Little Angel, you're mistaken. There's a breakdown in your system. There's a glitch in your program. These problems can't be mine. How am I supposed to handle them, when my hands are still full from the ripe challenges you threw down my way last week?
"I'm respectfully returning your latest release. I wish the person you bring this down upon the best of luck. He or she will need it."
Yesterday, someone told me that a bright young lawyer committed suicide, shocking everyone she had left behind. She seemed to have it all, I wondered what drove her to despair and made her lose all hope.
Last night, rendered immobile by problems that were too big for my puny mind to deal with, and which were too scary for my palpitating heart to to face, I watched TV. I saw a movie about a person suffering from manic-depressive behavior and dementia. This supposed relaxing activity did not relieve my chest pains.
I turned to prayer, tired, beaten, and bruised. I asked for prayers. I lifted my hands in surrender. No, these problems were not mine to handle.
I need a Savior now so desperately, as I turn to face reality.