Slogging is wearisome. It is icky, ungracious, off-balance, maddening, and it doesn’t take much slogging before frustration rises and hostility sparks.

We are all slogging. The entire world. Even if you are self-contained in your home, a peek out the window reveals an entire species slogging to cope with a virus.

No one knows what to do. The media and public figures throw stones, but it is obvious: No one has figured out this little bug.

Take-charge types speak categorically. Maybe they’re right—which one is right is the trick.

Diagrams. Charts. All demonstrate slogging.

What to do?

We have three options: 1) Quit slogging. Sink, disappear into the ooze. 2) Keep slogging, high-stepping. Never quit. 3) “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” the Psalm declares.

I hope you reject option 1.

If you determine option 2, you can, a) proceed in self-persistence or b) you can proceed with persistence incorporating option 3.

Personally, my repetitive determination is options 2 and 3 combined.