Integrated a period of fervent prayer into my morning exercise. It’s rarely I do this officially, but I was in dire straights. Adopted Jeremiah’s plea: “Lord, lift me from the pit.” Was calling down blessing on every aspect of my day of work that entered my brain, metaphorically on my knees, but physically in the classic tree-hugging pose.
Something happened anyway, as it’s the first Saturday I’ve ever worked without sustaining some level of stress trauma. Three people in the kitchen is the key; in all situations this is the magic number, apart from perhaps marriage, and thumb wars. Almost got ahead of myself by having two coffees on my break, but the latent fear of uncontrollable urination kept me in check.
I was therefore delighted to fill my evening with stressful recreation, such as the deceptively simple task of transferring audio files from CD to iPod. After three hours of whirring, and erasing and replacing my entire library, I met with success. Eventually surrendered and listened to Amanda Cook for an hour in worshipful bliss. My first day I’m a while where over fifty percent of stuff has worked out above average.