And I don’t.
Lord, I bring all of my mud and dirt and filth to You. And I ask you to wash it clean.
Baby is sick. He cries when he’s sick. Makes me realize just how much he doesn’t cry all the rest of the time. I can’t commit to the time it takes to actually put together a decent post, because guaranteed he’ll be crying again. And he’s not really ill – just a cold. So I shouldn’t complain. Hence, my silence.
I’ve had yet another Top 10 Church moment and I don’t feel like I can or should talk about it. But I’m drained from the stress and emotional upheaval it’s brought to my heart. My most recent prayer is that He’ll fix it right. Just the way it should be – whatever that is. No matter how much I worry that humans have completely missed the mark. And they have. See, I hate it when other people do that. Tell you just enough to make you want to hear the story, but then tell you they can’t. It’s pointless and frustrating. Hence, my silence.
I’m still going through a “I don’t have friends and nobody likes me” slump. My friend Megan talked about it the other day right after I’d had yet another breakdown over the exact same issue. The problem is I do have close friends but we don’t live anywhere near each other. And where I live I can’t seem to make friends. No matter how much I offer to have you over or come hang out at your house – it just flops. Every single time. And I overthink why I’m not a good enough friend. But I’m not supposed to talk about that. Hence, my silence.
This week I’m in a discontentment funk. My blue period. Where I worry about what curriculum to get and wonder how we’ll pay for it. Where I see everybody talk about how they don’t have any money and yet see them go on vacations. Where I look at other people’s houses and see where mine is lacking. Where it all comes down to money. Again. The fine stupid line where I could be in a heckofalot worse situations. Where I’m one of the richest majority of the people on earth. And yet I still sit looking at others and what they have. And I grumble. And complain. Even as the weed that I didn’t ask for, nor control, grows up over me to shelter me from the scorching heat. And therein lies the problem. I want the patience of Job. I want the accolades of Noah. But I have the attitude of Jonah.
I don’t have an “everything’s alright now” ending tonight. Partly because it’s night. And I need the sunshine to feel the new mercies. I’ve been waiting for something nice to say and it’s been a few days. So I figured I’d let you in on why my blog is so picturey and quiet. Why my Facebook page is more boring than quippy. And why I don’t really want to talk about it, I just want to get over it. Usually unblocking my complainingness gets me over my silence slump and back into the real world. Just a listening ear, it always helps, right?
