Some days have rough edges. Sub zero temperatures, tall gray snowbanks, babies with diaper rash, and sniffly-nosed toddlers can be rough stuff indeed.
But I have rough edges too. I am jagged with anger, pride, and impatience. I am sharpened with selfishness, thoughtlessness, and sloth. I am stony. I am broken. I am rough stuff too.
And so it is on the rough days that I pray harder still:
Smooth me, God. Even if it hurts. Rub my own sharpness against enough jagged edges to make me smooth. Soften me. Polish me. Make me shine.