So, I was out shopping this evening, and I decided to stop at J. Buffalo Wings for some fried fish and chips. It’s Good Friday, so no meat today. As a practicing Catholic, I’m also supposed to fast. Fasting in the U.S. today means having one full meal and two smaller meals which can’t add up to a full meal. Of course, for me, that usually means having just one slice of pizza with my soda and cookies and free refill on soda/chips and whatnot.
In short, I’m a terrible…faster? Is that the word? I dunno, whatever. I suck at fasting.
So, I’m feeling bad for myself as I walk from the Kroger up to the Walgreens. I start to think, “Hey, maybe I’ll watch Passion of the Christ tonight! That’s what other Christians watch to make themselves feel holier.”
Then I think, “Nah, I’ll listen to Dark Side of the Moon, instead. I’m pretty sure Roger Waters was moved by the Spirit when composing those tunes.”
So, I’m listening to Breathe, and I get to the point where the rabbit has to dig his hole, catch the sun. And of course, you know what happens when his work is done. Time to dig another one.
And that got me thinking. We work so much. We are so busy. Not just with trying to continue our existence on this globe and striving toward goals of love, art, and fortune, but also with trying to improve ourselves and our families and friends.
But in the end, there’s always another hole to dig.
And just then, as I crested the hill where Walgreens sits like a lonely outpost on the ramparts of reality, I saw this in front of me:
And then I turned and saw this behind me:
And I realized that, for all my pride and ambition, I will never create anything so beautiful as all that. If you’re a Christian like me, you may see in this a sign from the Creator, a reminder that, at the end of the day, we should rejoice in our failures, for they only confirm our need for a Redeemer.
Yes, I’m imperfect. Yes, I’m sinful. We all are. God knows it. We are called to perfection, yes, but we are not expected to reach it without God’s help. We are not God.
Even if you’re not Christian, you may come to much the same conclusion: That in the end, after all the human race has accomplished, all its been through, we’re still squatting in the dirt, moving pebbles around and calling them planets.
We’re just not that big a deal, folks. And that’s ok.
Anyway, as I finish up here, I’ll leave you with some more holy words from the last track of Pink Floyd’s greatest album ever:
See you on Sunday, kids.