When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask; But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."
John Milton, "When I Consider How My Light Is Spent"
I am in a reflective state of mind today; it has been a tedious week and it is difficult, sometimes, to find joy in such a week. And, while I can't put my finger exactly on what is troubling me, I think it has to do with those things that we can't fix; the world is too much with us.
And, yet, there is such joy around us. Brenda's post or Clarice's post this morning reminds me of that. Each of us, regardless of how powerless or depressed or rich or poor, can make the world a more loving place. While Milton wrote this when his eyesight was failing (how did he write Paradise Lost when completely, utterly blind??), it is actually a fine reminder of how we choose to live our life.
Shall we love and help each other?
Shall we be bitter?
Shall we speak softly and with kindness?
Shall we yell, cry, and spew meanness?
Today, I am considering just how my light is spent. Are you?