"Every time I make my mark...

Somebody paints the wall..." - some country singer
The wall, as you can see, is now red. What should have taken 1 hour took 5-6. Why? The short answer is that everything went wrong (paint was clumpy, then I dumped out half the can accidentally, then I had to pay $40 for decent paint). The long answer is ... everything went wrong! For better or for worse I always make some attempt to explain the seemingly random events of my life, and today's events resulted in so much inner and verbalized cursing that I felt forced to assess it's potential purpose. It wasn't like it mattered in the grand scheme that everything I tried to do went wrong, but it made me stressed out, annoyed, and generally frustrated. What is the point? The martyr in me likes to liken myself to Job - you know, God is letting the Devil torment me to prove my faithfulness. Blessed be the name of the lord. The reality is that it stirs strong feelings of ire within me. Finally, at a dear friend's suggestion, I took a chill pill, sat still for a little while, and gazed toward heaven (at Starbucks while I drowned my sorrows with a latte and a 7-layer cookie). And who was there? Mm hm. Some good food for the soul:

My soul finds rest in God alone
My salvation comes from him
He alone is my rock and my salvation
He is my fortress; I will never be shaken.

The good thing - he is gracious inspite of me.