God, why can't I just be thankful?

I am lesser than a blade of grass, because a blade of grass is content to be as you have made it, and I cannot be content in my station. I keep praying and pushing... and when I relax and move with the flow, still I push, because for some of us, we have been waiting already for half of our lives, and we want nothing more than to finally move.

There is a terrible sense of urgency. There is too much that needs to be done. I must remind myself that your pace, at times, is mercifully slow.

Take me there.