All of last week I was sick. It has to be the drafty air and the damp coldness here in this pit - BLAH!
Finally I can breathe through my nose, the sneezing fits and coughing have eased. Those two things were the hardest to handle - back pain is multiplied to the nth degree when you sneeze!
Being sick causes you even more alone time - which sucks. But, I can't blame people - who wants to be exposed to someone sick!?! I definitely wasn't online either, not that they can catch it - but the trek to the living room from the bedroom seemed impossible.
Seems to be kinda off an on like that lately. I feel like I am coming out of this crap and I am then amazed at how something so little - such as a commercial - you know the ones - just sends me tumbling backwards. So I thought that I would watch something on the movie channels that had no baby-family-mommy-daddy-grandkids-Easter-blah blah blah- commercials. I watched Dexter on Showtime. A newish series about this guy, who kills people - but only bad people. That should keep my mind off of all my problems huh? Well, to a point - but he was adopted through foster care and of course those bits riled me up.
So I thought hmmm there is another series about Henry VIII. History should keep me busy. Multiple reasons I stopped watching The Tudors - almost pornographic but everything in that crazy kings life centered around him having an heir. Not just any heir...a MALE heir. His wife Catherine had him a daughter - not good enough. She then miscarried every child after that. He had an affair - she had a son - but he was illegitimate so it wasn't so simple. Then that son died. He found another woman, he got an annulment of his first marriage, married Anne and she gave him a daughter - not good enough. I am getting so angry I had to stop watching - that and boy the 1500's was all about sex and not just sex but sex with any ole woman they wanted.
I ended up googling Henry VIII and got the rest of his story - he had a son finally and in turn got his heir.
Boy, that was all a bunch of stuff no one really wanted to know.
There are days I pray and pray hard, weeping and just begging for peace, for answers and for others. Then there are days I feel that bitter anger that is always there just not always prominent.
I can't remember the last time I was in church. It used to be that I could say I can't remember the last time I wasn't in church. I have been sick, good excuse I guess. I didn't even go to church for Easter. I don't think in my whole life I have missed an Easter Sunday. EVER. :(
The longer you stay out of church the easier it is to stay out of church.
I got my sermon from my mom yesterday that I can't expect anything from Him if I am not in his favor. I just said ok mom, agreed with her and let it drop - all the while thinking how I was the good Christian, I did what I was supposed to do. I sang, I prayed, I was faithful to church, I witnessed, I did my devotions, studied...all the things I was supposed to do. I wasn't doing them to get something from Him really - I did them because I believed, I trusted, I wanted to do anything that would bring Him glory. Even when I was hurting, confused, felt lost in all the sadness that has been in my life - I was faithful. I believed He had a plan. I rode it out, until the straw that broke the camels back was tossed into my boat and I started taking on water.
Mom says he was testing me to see how I would react to Him in my dark days. I feel like I did great for a long time - longer than I expected, or anyone else really knows. I kept thinking - one more day God and I know you are going to pull me out. I feel You God holding on to my hand...I am not slipping. Then the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months...I felt my fingertips slipping. Just a little at first.
My grip went from my hand tight around His wrist and His around mine - to being palm to palm.
I still felt secure, but the time was still bad, darkness was below me and it was tugging hard. But, my Father is strong and faithful - He won't let go.
Maybe I got comfy. I felt my hand slip and all that held me to Him was a grip between our fingers.
Before I knew it, and at this point I am unsure of the catalyst - but I was here. Alone. If this was a test - I failed. But, He knows my weaknesses, He knows my strengths. Why would He let me get to that place when He knows all there is to know about me. He knows my tomorrow, so He knew I would be here. If He loved me so much why would He not save me from all of this?
Most days I am better. Not saying I am back on solid ground, but I can pray. That is a big leap from where I landed a time back.
Some days though I am bitter, I am ugly, I roll my eyes, I am sarcastic and want to look for the cameras that are filming this joke that is not funny to me.
Sigh - I am such a drama queen. I hope to read this next year and have been let in on the punch line. I hope that I am back to being me. I hope that my dream about a child is realized or squashed for good - in a way I can accept it and just move on. I hope that I am taking long walks with Scott without pain. I hope his drive to work isn't up a mountain. I hope this pit is filled with faith and love and prayer and optimism and all things happy.
I am Hope...ha, I kinda get why my brothers all called me Hopeless growing up.
Having hope is a good thing though right? If I had none - that would be dark and empty.