We humans are in such a muck. There is too much to know and far too little time to care for every detail pertaining to continuing existence, let alone for ever political theory or philosophy of living. We are constantly harassed by leases and mail, insurance, loans, yards, friends, jobs and money, not to mention hygiene, dirty dishes and toothbrushes.

It is a grand notion to think that we might be able to rely on others for some things, let them sort through political candidates, the complexity of taxes or even the foods we should be eating for our health. Yet, through bitter experience we must either become consigned and lazy or cynical and frantic, or some strange mingling.

Unfortunately, for me, I can think of very few, if any, real suggestions for this state of being other than to merely stagger on, thinking though what I can and plunging gruelingly through the rest, but what kind of advice is that really?

J.R. in church today spoke of contentedness, looking always upwards, our malcontent only remedied through the cross, also, I assume, through the realization of our own limitations, humanity and incessant falleness and fallibility.

Thinking through this I become mystified as I so often do when trying to figure out how to balance grace and peace with duty. How can we possibly know peace as we unflinchingly gape towards our own weakness, and yet this seems to be the deliberate dance that God demands. We can not do it, but we must try and pray that God will take pity on our feeble efforts, thankfully, I realize, he already has.

Sometimes this seems reasonable, to know we must do, yet to know it is done. It seems reasonable on lazy Sundays staring blankly at the sun blanched sky, when we are briefly allowed to forget that we live among other humans that cross our paths for longer than a greeting wave, that our lives are governed by rules we are not even always aware exist, or that when we strive at something it can all be turned around to become a scoffed at nothingness. However, on such remembrances I am jolted. It seems all that we can do is to shrug, tense and muddle onwards, yet it appears as though we must placidly, happily, contentedly fight and remain ever aware that the fight has been won (and such remembrances are a feat among themselves.)

God grant us grace in this utter chaos.