Dirty Laundry

My life feels like an endless load of smelly, dirty, rotten laundry. Each time I let myself get excited by the sound of the dryer buzzer and I start to feel the anticipation rising for the wonderful, warm smell of clean laundry that awaits just behind that dryer door, I remind myself that the clothes that I am wearing are filthy and soiled. The moment I switch out of them to don the sweet smelling dry clothes, the pile of filth will start to rise again. That's how my life feels.

Some people call it two steps forward, one step back. I call it my life. And I am in the mood just now to stand in the middle of the room and shake my fist at Heaven and scream, "I don't want to do this anymore!" I don't want to do it for one more minute. I don't like this game. It's tiring and filled with frustration and dissappointment. I can read the Bible cover to cover and listen to the wisest of men preach and teach that there is a deeper purpose behind this veiled mirage that I call my life, but just now I do not care. I am mad.