Two nights ago, in the midst of a grumpy, grouchy late night kitchen cleaning session during which I bemoaning everything from the state of the free world to who ridiculously dirty our dirty dishes get I said the simplest little prayer. "Jesus. Help."
I didn't much want to pray. I didn't much feel like it. I just did.
I was still grumpy. Just slightly - very slightly - less so.
Then, after finishing the dishes I picked up Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline.
I flipped to the chapter on submission.
The very short version? Surrender to God, realize my 'rights' aren't really rights at all, give up trying to run or control other people, be free.
That was a lousy paraphrase. Buy the book, read the real version. Surrender to the Force.
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