Ever since I have returned from Easter break my life has been consumed with work and responsibilities. I felt burdened by the extra hours I spend on work instead of doing

recreational and social activities. A few days ago as Dan and I were driving somewhere I was complaining in my head feeling very defeated and frustrated to the point of self-pity. At a red light on a street near our house a middle-aged man in a wheel chair was wheeling himself across the crosswalk. They had just graded the street for repaving and the sidewalk was a good 4-5 inches higher than the street and he could not get his chair up on the sidewalk. Since he had no companion to help and no legs below his knees he threw himself onto the pavement and dragged his now lighter chair with great difficulty onto the sidewalk. He then attempted, several times, to pull himself back into his chair all while dozens of people stared at him waiting for the light to turn green. My cold, bitter heart broke.
Similarly, a few months back I was frustrated with the amount of times our worship leader made us stand and sit during the church service. (I find it distracting but he likes to keep us

awake.) The sixth time he had us stand I rolled my eyes at Dan and begrudgingly pulled myself to my feet. In silent protest I didn’t focus on the song but turned around to look at the clock on the back wall only to meet eyes with a young man in his thirties in a wheelchair. He smiled at me as he cheerfully sang the words to the song– confined to his chair– nature having taken away his option to stand and worship. I’ve never since complained in my heart about standing in church.
A few weeks before this we were in church again on a Sunday morning and our music pastor was having us sing, “Our God is an Awesome God” which I felt was a very over sung piece of music. Annoyed and distracted I looked around remembering something I had heard another share in my bible study a week earlier: “It helps me in my worship time to look around and see

others worship God knowing the difficult things those people are dealing with and personal trials they have overcome.” My eyes then fell on a third-grader who was born with a birth defect that kept him from speaking until very recently. This 11-year old stood next to his dad enthusiastically signing the words and loudly singing in his gruff, raspy voice “Our God is an Awesome God”. The power and weight of the words of this song hit me fully and immediately. Annoyance turned to remorsefulness and my complacent heart was moved to joy.
It is amazing how our perspective on our situation in life can change when we take our eyes off of ourselves. It is in our nature to be self-focused and I welcome the reminders that God positions in the way of our self-pity and self-admiration to help us gain a truer, clearer picture of life.