Once, my three-year-old son Charles struggled to open the door of the church restroom. Not readily discouraged by this set back, his voice came faintly from the other side of the room: “I’m tough, I’m tough.” He ran and slammed himself into the door. When it didn’t move, he paused, took a deep breath and cried out with an intensity that shocked me. “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”

I realized that my own reaction to life is often similar to my three-year-old’s reaction to the stubborn door. When I come up against a difficult problem, I throw all my weight against it. I say, “I’m tough, I’m tough.” Sometimes, when I give it everything I have, I find that problems give way. But there are those times when every ounce of strength I can muster, every bit of creativity at my disposal, every talent I can apply leaves me helpless with my problem.