My Lord says to me, “Do this.”

And I ask, “Why, Lord, why?”

And He does not answer. And then I think of a million reasons why this thing would not be a good idea, a million excuses I might give that such a thing is impossible, a million other things I could do instead. And I think of myself how unfortunate I am that I am given such a burden, how inconvenient all of everything is.

And then I do this one thing, after all that complaining. How simple it is; and the moment I am done, I see how right and good that I did need do it, and as I continue on from after its completion, understanding comes after understanding of its purpose. But yet:

My Lord says again to me, “Do this.”

And still I ask, “Why, Lord, why?”

For the flesh so easily forgets.