A Spring of Joy

Tired.

I am tired.

I am tired of picking up my phone and crying.

I am tired of checking my emails or texts and reading of heartbreak. I’m tired of the weariness of this world.

I am tired of the processing and grieving and the pain of loss and heartache.

I know many of you are tired, too.

But at the same time I long for it.

I long for the processing and the tears.

I long for the hours spent on the phone with friends who share in the ache.

I long for the encouraging words to read or to share.

I know many of you long for it, too.

My body and soul are weary, and with each new piece of news, I find myself covering my face with my hands and crying, “No, no, no!” over and over and over.

Some days I just want to ask what God is thinking. And some days I do.

I know many of you ask questions, too.

But it’s not for me to figure it all out–any of this: deaths and miscarriages and surgeries and cancers and panic attacks and disease and depression.

In this life we will struggle.

And so I wade through the grief. The muck and the mire of life. And I thank Him for grace.

Grace that cleanses and gives us strength to walk, some days crawl, some days only lie prostrate on this journey toward Home.

I know many of you cling to grace, too.

Yes.

I am tired.

I am tired of living with chronic illness, of death in my body every single day.

I am tired of the battle.

I am tired of the grieving.

I know many of you are grieving, too.

But I wouldn’t give up the phone calls and the prayer times and the emails and the notes in the mail and the texts and the processing.

I wouldn’t give up the tears and the cries and the longing.

I wouldn’t give up this need for one another for anything.

We need each other so very, very much.