Most Days

Most days I wish I lived a life where it could never be mistaken where my strength comes from- one that is undeniably and solely fueled by the flame of Jesus.
Most days I regret not being thankful for the providence I am so generously given- new days, every day to turn new leaves and discover new beauties.
Most days I look back and realize the immense pain overshadowing my minuscule efforts towards a changed world- the baby steps I take if I even decide to take steps at all.
Most days I forget about those starving abandoned babies and the moms and dads struggling with the knowledge of that failure- I allow the absent grief of terrible situations to make itself at home in the infrequent occurrence of life changing concern.
Most days I ride right past my community's homeless people trying to not look in order to spare my personal comfort and the sadness and guiltiness I would indubitably feel lest I acted upon my conviction.
Most days I slide into sleep forgetting that I just relived a "most day" yet again.  

But, on the days that I fall asleep realizing that there is a great work ahead of me for tomorrow- that every second matters and every person is a soul that has an eternal destiny- those are the days I see Jesus with open eyes undoubtably working all around me. I repent for those mosts...and my heart cries out for the Lord's compassion once again.

It's my prayer that these types of days be replace one another.