Fresh Air and Gifts like Soul-Manna

I don’t know what to say.  I don’t have words, only aches and tears and self-righteous anger and a foolish belief that what I’ve given up to be here isn’t worth what You are doing in and through me, here. 

 I pray that it will all melt away… the fear, the foolishness.  The struggle, the grief, the loss.  The phone calls and meetings and assessments will be no more and I’ll be left with You pulling me close to the heart of You and shushing me… “It will all be okay.  I will not leave you in the darkness here.  I have you where I want you and this drought will not be forever.” 

 And I know, shameful, that the part of me praying to love and take these little ones deep into every moment, to love with every bit of my live, battles the part that cries and tantrums and just wants to go home already, that doesn’t believe in my power to continue here and doesn’t believe in Your power to transcend this kind of fatigue.
 I am tired, spiritually, emotionally, physically, mentally and more.  I am discouraged.  I am waiting for help to arrive, for a breath of fresh air.  I am waiting.

I wrote those words last night.  Today… is a new day.  And air has come, and it is fresh and I am gulping it down deep with gusto… and it is good.   I’m still tired, but oh to resume the counting is the medicine to soothe the weariness, the balm to heal the wounds of the week.  Joy.  Grace.  Gratitude, with Ann (who I am very much looking forward to hearing from at Relevant ’11). 

357.    Wilderness.

358.    Friends that will sit late on lawn chairs to speak truth straight into me, with love and laughter and hearts in right places.

359.    A husband with words ever wiser, learning how to best support this messy wife of his.

360.    A very, very generous gift.

361.    A tearing down of verbal walls within this house, recently… progress, sticky and thick as syrup, but progress all the same.

362.    Bone tired days that allow me to admit my weakness, to soak life up through outstretched hands, through encouraging words, through miracles.

363.    Communities full of women, of hearts all ticking out our words together to do what we can do for each other, to keep us all on our feet, to raise each other’s chins upward.

364.    Perspectives that challenge my faith, cause me to wonder, to seek, to search and admit that there are things I simply do not know.

365.    Learning to be okay with being the woman who isn’t doing it all, all at once.

366.    Nighttime dreams that drift along with sleep and feel like closure and nods in right directions.

367.    The beautiful way He weaves weakness within our personal tapestries.

368.    Healthy, loving discussion that helps keep attitudes in check and hearts humble.  

369.    Encouragement, pouring down and all around like soul-manna. 

370.  Every person that stumbles across these words, that keeps me going in ways you'll never know the measure of. 

371.  Sticky feet in hard times, even when they urge to run away but, instead, find strength to stay.

Count, along with me friends... won't you?