Case of the Monday’s?

Another Monday is here. BOO! Mondays are far worse at different times in our lives, like now, and for different reasons. As an elementary student, you tend to be excited to go to school where you get to learn, be with friends, and have recess! Wahoo! If you were like me, and you’re probably not because I super weird, then Mondays at that age meant chasing little girls around the jungle gym, in hopes that they would chase me back or even call me a name. Man, that was some good stuff, huh? Funny how relationships were just as complicated back then, and that boys were just as oblivious and stupid as men are today.

Mondays then started to suck, because teachers were less nice, and school was way less fun. School started to really suck in fact. It wasn’t just the increased challenges in the classroom, it was the social learning and the ever sharpening learning curve. Middle school is hell. Literally it’s a freaking hormonal, testosterone cesspool, with shear meanness blasting from idiotic and foolish mouths. I actually enjoyed middle school, but it was hell – I’m really confused as to what that says about me… I like hell??????. Middle school is the first place a human (in the US) starts to experience the real world. You learn that you may not be as smart as someone else. You may learn that you might not have friends if you look different, or if you sound different, or have different skin color. You may learn that kids with rich parents all seem to be prettier, more athletic, smarter, and have way more friends. You may learn being new is in NO WAY fun! You learn about violence… lot’s of violence.

I lived in a little suburban area of Houston, called Spring Texas. Nice little Texans, in a Texas suburb. Hahaha…. Not so nice, though it was affluent for a bunch of rednecks (don’t worry I use that term endearingly). When our mom registered us in school, we had just moved from Arizona, and walking into the middle school we were directly confronted with violence. Some poor bastard of a kid got his face beat in, and was on his way to a hospital on a stretcher. I am sure the reason was valid…. or not so much. There were many more fights at that school during my tenure. I really cannot remember how many fights I was in, but I can remember ALL of the reasons. All of them but two, were people picking on my handicap brother, or commonly referred to as my ‘Retarded Brother’ by the sweethearts of Texas. They’d slap him, push him, make him do horrible things to other boys and especially girls. Sadly, humanity doesn’t get much better until well after high school because that continued in H.S. Anyways, one of the two not related to him was a guy being super aggressive with a girl, and I whooped his a$$, sorry feminism… I respect women enough to fight their battles when they cannot. The other fight being the only fight I ever lost, in my opinion… hahaha. I called a kid from Canada, “Canadian bacon” a few times, and after class he jabbed me in the throat with his pudgy bacon-y fist… fight lost, lol. Even I was an a$$hole at times, but come on, Canadian Bacon is funny!

I have gotten way off topic, so let’s bring it back. The point is, life seems very cyclical. We start off loving all days, no matter what the name of the day is, and what happens on that day. Yet, with age, responsibility, stress, worries, and just life in general, certain days become worse and worse. Then eventually, after retirement, Monday’s are hardly any different than any other day. See? Cyclical.

Monday seems to be most people’s worst day of the week. On that glorious weekend, we are doing things that we love, and being with people we love, or ‘Netflix and Chill’. Monday is that cold slap to the face. Monday is a bucket of ice water being dropped on your head. Monday is a return to the hell that is our reality, our daily life. Sure, there are a few schmucks (what’s a schmuck anyways? Anyone know, besides google?) out there that love their life to the fullest, and cannot wait for Monday. Good for those people! I am not talking to them. I am talking to myself, and anyone else that isn’t a schmuck.

I hope to be a schmuck someday. I think I can get there with a few changes. First and foremost, I have to have a purpose in life. If I know that purpose, then I have to remind myself daily what it is and how to walk down that path. If I don’t, then my life must consist of searching for that purpose so that I can find contentment. My purpose that I found was Jesus Christ, and I live my life to serve Him and God’s kingdom. My purpose is to hopefully use the talents God gave me to be a light to God that glorifies Him and brings people (anyone) to Him.

“Josh, you cannot really bring people to Christ if you are calling them ‘Schmucks’.” They said.

“Don’t follow me, or use me as an example. Jesus says to follow Him. Jesus is the example. I’m still working on following Him myself and being more like Him, so I am really sorry if I offended you.” I replied.

I realize that not everyone reading this is a follower of Christ, and a few of you pop in my head immediately, because I worry about your salvation most (if you think I am talking about you, then it is probably you). So, if it’s not Jesus, find your purpose, and live it out. Pursue it.

If you are living out your purpose, then no matter the day, you will find fulfillment and contentment. Your purpose doesn’t have to answer the meaning of life question. Your purpose can be to be a great parent to your children. Or, be an amazing provider, a loving spouse, a happy person. If you are just going through the motions, I’ve got news for you… the motions are actually non-motion. Non-activity. Stagnant life means horrible Mondays.



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