I am training for big things. No not large things and not material things but big things, important things. I am training so that one day my spirit is strong enough to breathe in that ruah of God, that breath of the Lord and Giver of Life, the Holy Spirit. I am training so that when the time comes, and my current life becomes more and more a memory, God finds in me a good and faithful servant, an adopted and sincerely loving son who wants to live in his Father’s house.
I eat the bread of angels for strengthening; I study the moves of the masters who have gone before me to learn from their mistakes and imitate theirs successes. I pick up my weight every day, that beautiful and terrible cross known only to me. And I look at Jesus, my reward and consolation.
Yes, I am training for big things but you couldn’t tell that from looking at me. My struggle is with the man I find within, the old me that would rather give up the fight and be like everyone else. But while heaven can be found in the little things it certainly cannot be found in this soul’s acceptance of mediocrity. And so one more day is all I need to be a saint; it must be, because that might be all that I have left.