You know, I try to be a good person. I’ve matured a lot in the last ten years, and I am not always proud when I look back at who I used to be, but I’d hope that I am recognized as someone basically decent. I don’t have a lot of confidence these days, I have a shaky self-esteem and my natural tendency is more towards cynicism. You’d be surprised how sarcastic I can be inside of my own head.
But I fight those traits. I pray, though not as often as I could. A friend posted on Facebook today that she feels she has suffered a “spiritual stroke” in her relationship with God and I flinched at how accurate that description fits my heart these days too. I am weak, I’ve asked God “why” and I have a hard time giving up my worries. I am human though, and I fail so miserably every single day.
I am tired. I am exhausted from watching my youngest struggle to do simple tasks, to form a real thought. I have no idea if the path we have chosen for him is the right one, and God might be handing us the answer in the form of a new trial for Corrigan, and you can imagine how much I love the idea of ANOTHER obstacle for my sweet boy. He has gone through so much, he has so much stacked against him, my heart has never fully recovered from that moment I walked in and saw my brand new baby boy, swollen beyond recognition and in a coma, breathing tube in his throat and his tiny hospital bassinet covered in saran wrap from nearly head to toe because they couldn’t regulate his temperature while hemodialysis was working to save his little life.
I stood for days, stroking a one-inch strip of his forehead, the only available area of skin left open the air and I felt so helpless. I still feel that way. I still feel as if we are helpless in this world, so full of sickness and sadness. My brave Father-in-law has been fighting a fierce battle against brain cancer this year. One of my oldest friends lost her mother to cancer last Spring. And today, my mother told me that she has lung cancer.
Really? Lung cancer?
I’m curled up into a ball here, defeated from the kicks that keep coming at us. Financially, emotionally, spiritually, I am spent. I don’t know how to help my husband in the areas he needs me. I don’t know how to take the pain away from those suffering. I don’t know the words to say when someone’s world is falling down around them. I don’t know how to help those that need help financially, when I can barely help my own family. I don’t know how to take the pain of cancer away from those I love. I don’t know what else to do, other than pray. Not that my prayers seem to reach all the way up to where they need to be, because the babies I pray for are still dying from dreadful diseases, and friends are losing their homes and husbands. Our country is falling into darkness, people are turning against each other, there’s no natural affection towards fellow man. I am praying, I am begging, I am good and decent and I plead the blood of Jesus anytime I see a need. I know that others are praying for us. I am not unloved and I don’t feel alone in this, but I am so so so so tired.
I’m ready for something good.
Tell me something good.