Uncle.

Last night, I had one of my more difficult nights in a while, in regards to my physical health. I suppose the good news is, it's been a while since I've had bronchitis. I keep having that thought. I suppose there's a bright side to this, and to that. But I can feel myself giving in.

The other day, I was walking with Howie. And he does such a good job walking long distances, he loves his walks just like me. :) But after about an hour and a half, he reached his breaking point. And I felt a tug on the leash and turned around to see him flat on the sidewalk, beneath the shade of a big leafy tree.

I can feel myself giving in. In the image I have in my mind, of the Lord and I walking side by side - I try to perservere. It's against my nature not to. To continue to search tirelessly for the higher meaning, for the silver lining. For the motivation to keep walking, for the sake of God. But in that walk, I'm imploring Him to stop. Not even to carry me. But to just STOP. Stop long enough to just look around, and process the past two years.

I try not to say things like "I've had a rough year" for a number of reasons. It seems lame, it seems ungrateful. It seems depressing. The other night we were having our YMST meeting, and one of the lovely women I'm lucky to work with shared a bit of her personal life. And she just said - with no hesitation and no shame - that she'd had a rough year. There it was. The truth.

And I've been so afraid to say it out loud, maybe because it would make it more real. It would make me more vulnerable to pity. But I've reached a point where I have to say it, whether or not it makes me less of a noble servant. I've had a rough two years. I've faced my share of daunting challenges, tumultous relationships, physical ailments, failing health by the month, and inner spiritual and emotional struggles.

I love the Lord more than anything, but am I allowed to say stop? What happens then? Does it matter?

In my most honest prayers to God, I have to ask: How can you claim to love me, and yet watch me go through all of this. Month after month, year after year. Without relieving me. Do You care? What purpose does it serve? What game are you playing? I'm working so hard, and I just don't feel appreciated for it. It makes me feel so much less of a person to expect gratification, but isn't that what it means to be human afterall?

I'm in, come rain or shine, until my dying day. That much is true. And I'm confident that there will come a day when all the answers are revealed to me, and I will humbly apologize for ever questioning Him.

But for now, I am just praying for a shady tree - so to speak - to just stop and rest. A little solice, a little respite. A little bit of that joy I hold out for so much of the time, to keep me going in the valley's.