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Close friend of mine worked on oil rigs for a while.

His stories are harrowing, and grimy, and I hope someday I can record them in a more easily translatable format.

Roughneck. Is the title of many of these gentlemen who work out in the sand and wind and ice.

The bits of these monstrous machines that pierce the earth to sap out the fuel,

they turn and grind on and on and on through levels of rock and earth until they hit their payload.

But until then, the turning is repetitive and circular and


Boring toward the prize.

The wind for eons carrying grit to carve the canyons and pile mesas high.

Bit by drilling bit.

There's a reason we call it "the grind."

Life hands us lemons and squeezes the oil right on our cornea.

And days turn into months into years of nail-biting and teeth-pulling mundane banality.

It is natural that it is not always fun.

"let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."

galatians 6:9

"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness."

james 1:2-3

Hold fast.

Take joy.

Keep going.

God will give the strength.

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