Thank Goodness It’s Friday!
My daughter reminded me of the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley. I believe it to be a poem of great hope. It describes the control one has not over his circumstance, but his response to those circumstances. And it speaks to the reality that no matter what is going on, no matter how difficult, you control how your heart and soul responds and therefore you ultimately control your fate. In other words, difficult situations will arise. The question is how will they define you. Will they make you stronger or will they beat you down. The choice of the outcome is yours.
The Christmas season is one of great despair for many people. People find themselves out of work, sick, worried about friends and family who are not around, or even dealing with death. You see, even at Christmas time, the world keeps moving. But we allow despair to take a bigger grip than it should when we forget what this season is ultimately about. It is about hope. It is not about the present but the future. It is not about my current circumstance, it is about what greater thing is to come. It is about remembering the life of a King born as a peasant who did not allow His circumstances to define Him, but allowed His hope to drive Him and to keep Him unbowed to the enemy and to the world. Hope. Nothing more, nothing less.
No matter what minor or major thing you may be going through this season. Remember, this time is about hope. And no matter what the issue is, no matter “how charged with punishment the scroll”, you are in control of your response and that gives you more power and strength than you could ever imagine. Because remember, that means you have the ability to call upon God, just like that peasant King did 2,000 years ago. And there is nothing that create more hope than that.
Be hopeful today!
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Thank Goodness It's...... 