When I was young, I loved to write. I loved to write letters to friends, poetry, short stories, and I even put my hand to writing a novel. Somehow, over time, I lost that love. Cares and Stress drowned out my writing, so that now, when I wish to return, I struggle with putting my thoughts down. Looking at this blog just confirms the communication inadequacies that I evidently possess. Most of the time I have nothing to say at all. Sometimes I have things to say, but don’t feel like putting the words together. Other times I don’t know how to communicate it properly. I’m struggling.
I’m weary. Weary of the state of the world. Weary of the endless deadline and my inability to meet them. Weary of our money problems that seem to go on and on. Weary of dealing with certain disorders in my children. I look often to the sky, hoping that it will part, and Christ the Messiah will be descending. I’m hoping. I’m praying. I’m overwhelmed with the information overload that is effecting our world. Information I don’t even want to know plastered across headlines. World weary, heart heavy. Those are my struggles. Fatigued. Overwhelmed. Broken. Exhausted. Tired. Not hopeless. These describe the struggles.
Am I where I need to be? Am I doing what I should be doing? Is the LORD pleased with me? Am I giving Him what I’m supposed to? These are my questions. I struggle with them as well.
The cistern is empty. I need refilling. Pray for me.