Mondayitis

Like most of you, I don’t particularly like Mondays.  The adrenalin from Sunday is gone.  Fatigue sets in.  The weekend is over and I am staring at another week full of appointments and responsibilities.  Often I will spend the day looking back over the Sunday before and lamenting over the things I thought should have happened but didn’t, or the things I wish hadn’t happened but did.  It is on Monday when Satan is most likely to attack me with the discouraging thoughts of self-pity.  As a matter of fact, I tend to take grumpy to a new level on Mondays.  Years ago we had our ministry staff meetings on Monday mornings until one of my staff informed me that we needed to move it to another day because all I said on Monday was “NO”.  We changed it to Wednesday and now we tend to get a lot more done.  Patti has a word for it:  Mondayitis.   

Mondayitis is not just a ministerial ailment.  A lot of people can catch it.  As a matter of fact, in 1971 the Carpenter’s told us that “rainy days and Mondays always get me down.”  The Mama’s and the Papa’s told us that “Every other day of the week is fine, but when Monday morning comes you can find me crying all of the time.”   Our culture has even developed a long list of colloquialisms that refer to the generally low impression we have for Monday; “today feels like a Monday”, “don’t quit your job on Monday”, etc. So from the looks of it, Mondayitis can affect us all if we are not careful. 

But there is a cure for Mondayitis.  Saturday morning while at a men’s breakfast meeting, I heard Jason sing a song that I hadn’t heard in a very long time.  The song meant so much to me that I couldn’t get it off my mind and even looked it up online to read the words again in order to enjoy the depth of their meaning.  As I read about the song, I discovered something about it that I did not know, and was reminded again of the cure for Mondayitis.  The song is entitled “The Love Of God” and was written by Fredrick Lehman in 1917.  It goes like this.

            The love of God is greater far

            Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
            It goes beyond the highest star,
            And reaches to the lowest hell;  (this is the Mondayitis part)
            The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
            God gave His Son to win;
            His erring child He reconciled,
            And pardoned from his sin.

             Oh, love of God, how rich and pure!

            How measureless and strong!
            It shall forevermore endure –
            The saints’ and angels’ song.

Now, here’s the fun part.  I read that years after this song was written and published, another verse was added to it.  The last verse came from an anonymous author who had spent much of his life in an insane asylum.  Shortly before he died, his caregivers noticed that his sanity had returned to him without any medical or professional explanation.  It was in cleaning out his room after his burial that they found these words penciled on the wall of his small room.

            Could we with ink the oceans fill,

            And were the skies of parchment made,
            Were every stalk on earth a quill,
            And every man a scribe by trade;
            To write the love of God above
            Would drain the ocean dry;
            Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
            Though stretched from sky to sky.

And there it is.  The cure for Mondayitis.  “Oh, love of God, how rich and pure.”  If the love of God can calm the insane mind, it can certainly give me all I need to get through another Monday.  And any other day as far as that goes.

Here is Mercy Me’s rendition of this great song. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71ViVKOAQVY
Enjoy.  Thanks for reading.