Still Moving: Albeit Slowly

The last time I had consistant insomnia was two years ago this time. Pregnant and overwhelmed with our challenges along with the grief of the world. This year I am less overwhelmed with the grief of the world only because my own challenges have consumed me that much more. I don't have much left over for the world. I am hoping when all of this is over (if it's ever over) I will come to some sort of balance.

Sometimes I think the reason I have always been so consumed with the world was as a result of pleasant ignorance of the severity of my own issues and life challenges. It's a painful shift to move from being one who thinks she can save, to being one who so desperately needs saving. I don't wish to go back in the least, I simply wish I could move forward a little faster. This is a lonely and frightening place to be.

It's not that I don't trust God to provide and it's not that I'm unaccustomed to discomfort. I have been in so many desperate situations! There have been many times when we didn't know where our next meal would come from, lived in what most Americans would consider "unsuitable living conditions," and dealt with countless uncertainties, yet God has always provided. For every person who has used or cheated us, others have inexcusably blessed us. Honestly, I have felt more blessed than I deserve for the most part. I have lived around too many people with less to see what we've been through as any real "suffering." It's just that I am so tired. I feel like even if it were easy it would be hard. And it's not easy.

It's painful and isolating when people can't understand your struggles. When they can't cheer you up with quotes and light hearted jokes, you somehow feel like you've disappointed them. They compare your struggles with things that you can't help but see as trivial. They give the impression they think you've given up too easily. But what they don't know is how long you've been fighting. And that whether or not it looks like it, you still are. Even the young grow weary and faint.

Even in moments when I know these trials will not last forever, when I know God is sovereign, there are times when I choose to be angry--regardless of promises kept, or not yet answered. Angry that I am not who I thought I was. Angry what God allows. And some days it's easier to lay paralyzed in my fear and anger than to hope that truth will set me free. To hope that one day joy will reign again, dispersing any desires to push away those I love. That one day I will wake up, not wishing I didn't have to.