Life is Damn Hard

Life Is Just Damn Hard

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I awaken in the night, my past screaming in my ear and I wonder “When will this ever end?”

I think we all have area’s of our lives, I hope I’m not the only one, that seem to torment us when least expected.

I’m reading a story about a blacksmith. He says his greatest fear is to end up on God’s scrap pile.

Let me explain.

When the blacksmith is first testing a piece of steel, he heats it up hammers it and then throws it into a cold tub of water. He does this over and over to see if the steel can be tempered.

If it crumbles he throws it on the scrap pile.

Fortunately I don’t think God throws us on a scrap pile but continues, throughout our lives, to temper us with good and bad days.

He allows the things we overlook or ignore, to rise at just the right time.

At 64 I think I should be past all of this.

At my age, there’s a false narrative that at some point I no longer need tempering.

Let’s face it.

Life is damn hard.

We all get thrown into fires, tossed into cold water and hammered in between.

I’ve recently found an area of my life, I thought was tempered but the scab never quite healed.

Circumstances ripped that scab off revealing an emotional infection I can’t just wash away.

I remind myself this is part of the tempering process but that doesn’t make it any better.

In the depths of the hurt it’s tempting to say “this will never be over” but I remember each time the blacksmith heats, beats and pounds me, I get a little closer to Him.