Out of energy
You tell yourself that you are never going to let yourself get this worn out agin because it does no good for anyone. Yet somehow you end up out of energy and feeling like the whole world is mocking you. Leeches sucking your drier and drier.
My first email this moring opened to a picture of a poster. The words on the screen read: "Good things happen for other people." The top part wasn't visible: "We're here to make". Where are my "We"? Where are the people in my life that are supposed to make good things happen?
My daily devotional was how people had reached out to the author when he had shared his wife suffered from vertigo. "At its core, this is how the body is supposed to work. Loving concern for our brothers and sisters in Christ becomes the evidence that we have experienced His love." I continuely reach out to friends, why are there no hands reaching back. I don't know when the last time a friend reached out to me first to ask how things have been going. However, I can think of at least 4 instances this week alone I have reached out to someone else. Yesterday's devotional was on being a better listener: shut up and let others talk for a change. A change? It is never my turn to talk.
What difference does it make anyway? Most of the time when I do try to reach out, the person I reach out to doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want/know how to comfort me. Do I know how to even comfort myself? Do I even want to hear it? Probably not. You'd think in 40+ yrs I would have learned that by now.
Do I really want to admit that at times like these I have to be a slave to my body and concentrate on meeting just the basic needs and give up the "wants" of life. I'm so tired of grieving, but here I am again. Why do I think that I can have an easier life when that isn't possible under the circumstances? Why do I think that my efforts to stay healthy in a corn-infested world will ever work? Why do I still carry the delusion that all the hard work I put into eating right and exercising will ever do more than just keep my head above water? Why do I think that my husband will ever be able to manage his bp well enough to help me through crisis with my own chronic illness?
Mind, body, soul, and spirit is one huge ball of pain. There are no drugs safe to take; no safe place to rest.
My first email this moring opened to a picture of a poster. The words on the screen read: "Good things happen for other people." The top part wasn't visible: "We're here to make". Where are my "We"? Where are the people in my life that are supposed to make good things happen?
My daily devotional was how people had reached out to the author when he had shared his wife suffered from vertigo. "At its core, this is how the body is supposed to work. Loving concern for our brothers and sisters in Christ becomes the evidence that we have experienced His love." I continuely reach out to friends, why are there no hands reaching back. I don't know when the last time a friend reached out to me first to ask how things have been going. However, I can think of at least 4 instances this week alone I have reached out to someone else. Yesterday's devotional was on being a better listener: shut up and let others talk for a change. A change? It is never my turn to talk.
What difference does it make anyway? Most of the time when I do try to reach out, the person I reach out to doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want/know how to comfort me. Do I know how to even comfort myself? Do I even want to hear it? Probably not. You'd think in 40+ yrs I would have learned that by now.
Do I really want to admit that at times like these I have to be a slave to my body and concentrate on meeting just the basic needs and give up the "wants" of life. I'm so tired of grieving, but here I am again. Why do I think that I can have an easier life when that isn't possible under the circumstances? Why do I think that my efforts to stay healthy in a corn-infested world will ever work? Why do I still carry the delusion that all the hard work I put into eating right and exercising will ever do more than just keep my head above water? Why do I think that my husband will ever be able to manage his bp well enough to help me through crisis with my own chronic illness?
Mind, body, soul, and spirit is one huge ball of pain. There are no drugs safe to take; no safe place to rest.
Replies