Frustration.

I came home early today (I got sent home from work because everything is in boxes and there's nothing to do! Win.) feeling rather frustrated. My students annoyed me today, my boss annoyed me today, and in general I have been all: "Rar! These people's half-assed attempts at doing actual work SUCK BIG-TIME. DIE. NO, I DON'T CARE WHO." So, frustrated.

Then I raised the shades to let some light into my house, and saw a bright red cardinal sitting on the birdfeeder, not two feet from my face. He was patiently eating, one seed at a time: Pick up. Crack seed. Pry TINY NUGGET OF GOODNESS out of shell. Eat TINY EDIBLE BIT, which takes far less time than it did to crack the seed (and oh by the way, did I mention I do not have opposable thumbs? Thanks for that, God). Rinse and repeat.

And I realized: I don't know frustration.

There can be no frustration quite like the frustration of a seed-eating bird. I mean, can you imagine having to ingest your meals that way? It would be like peeling your own grapes and eating them one by one. Or like eating shrimp, the rest of your life. It would drive me mad.

And yet Mister Cardinal seemed quite content.

Lord, grant me that sort of grace.



Granted, Mister Cardinal probably doesn't have two lectures to write today, either...