I feel a wide range of emotions. None of them are good or sweet or sticky or particularly productive, but they are what they are. And I'm entitled to feel them. I am, to put it gently, drowning right now. I've spent much of my life trying to do the right things. I know that it doesn't really matter; bad things happen to good people, good things happen to not-so-good people, and life is simply unfair. But I've just about had it, with a capital H. The whys of Logan's illness haunt me. The worry is mind-blowing. The pain? Forget about it. You can't even come close to imagining it unless you've worn shoes similar to mine. And if you have, I applaud you for still maintaining your sanity because mine is so cracked that it probably won't hold an ounce of liquid.
I don't understand why we can't have a prolonged period of peace. I don't understand why Logan may be facing yet another surgery. I don't understand why it seems like God Himself, the creator of the universe who is supposed to be loving and kind and gracious, seems like anything but a loving being. It's been an excruciating year. It may be greedy of me, but I want peace. I want this crap to stop. I want my life back, even if it's not perfect and it's not exactly the same as it was before --it never will be; I know that. But my soul craves a semblance of normalcy.
I wrote this on Facebook a little while ago, but it's how I feel so I'll note it again: It's a good thing that God never gives up on us. Truly it is. But I'm in a place where I'm very close to giving up on Him. My heart is broken, my body is exhausted, and I feel completely defeated.
There. I said it. I know I'll change my mind some day. I always do; that's the way this journey goes --I swing from one emotion to another, so I know an upswing will come. Eventually.