I was driving home from work yesterday, and as I mentioned in my last post, I'm exhausted this week. Maybe that's part of the problem, but I feel lousy all over--physically and mentally. I'm behind in everything. When I do manage to sit down to write, nothing comes.
So I was putting myself through my weekly tirade to God. "Maybe you don't even want me to write. Obviously I can't handle as much as other people. I'm incompetent, or lazy, or something. I don't have enough energy. Other folks can turn out three novels a year and blog and hold down jobs and raise children and support orphans in developing countries and..." Well, you get the picture.
I looked up during this tirade and saw this sign:
Don't you love God's sense of humor?