Weary

Before I enter my journal from today - remember this is my journal. It is raw and honest about what is going on and how I am feeling. I am okay and secure in the arms of my loving God.

I give up. Uncle. Enough. The struggles of the week, four months away from home, the loneliness, self doubt, and frustrations were too much to carry. The Good Samaritan. That's what I need. I am bruised and broken left in a ditch to die. Where is the help? But could I leave it there and just wait for help. No. I began to overanalyze why I found myself in this predicament. I wondered what I was doing wrong that no help seemed to come my way. Maybe I had misunderstood God in the first place. The doubt crept in. I was too tired and lonely to really care anymore. All my efforts to make sense of my world were coming up empty. I couldn't fight anymore. I 'm not even sure what I was fighting but the analyzing and rationalizing had worn me out. I gave up the fight. This time is just going to be hard and that will have to be okay. I am not alone. I have a deep trust in God and feel his presence holding me fast. That would have to be enough for now.
I spent the afternoon on the balcony reading a book. I checked on mom periodically. We had dinner on the balcony and mom went to rest before "Murder on the Orient Express" came on at 8. From the street came a call, "Do you want to go for a walk?" It was Laurel from apt 20. I checked on mom and ran down the stairs. We walked downtown along the river and back - a walk I do quite often. But this time I was not alone. We chatted and Laurel reminded me that this was temporary. Ah yes. Perspective. I felt a little less bruised and lonely. Thank you God for showing me your goodness and giving me hope.