Weak

Despite what I've always been told about the nature of God, sometimes I feel like I will never, ever be good enough to believe that God is good all the time. I know that probably sounds funny. It feels funny writing it. But it's a thought that's been going 'round and round in my head for weeks now, so I wanted to get it out. You know, just in case someone else out there might feel the same way, I wanted you to know that you're not alone.

I've been feeling particularly weak these past days, like my heart, my mind, my soul, my everything is just plain tuckered out. Sometimes, when I feel the walls closing in on me all over again --and believe me, those walls and I have been engaged in quite the Tango over the past many months-- I just find a wall somewhere, slide down it til my tush hits the turf and cry. Not because I particularly enjoy crying or because it helps me to cope any better with my less-than-envious circumstances, but because it's something I can control. At least, I can most of the time. Sometimes the tears come whether or not I want them to. But that's another bag of dog food.

Today was an okay day. Logan went to school without much of a fight and was pleasant most of the afternoon. The left side of his face is still mostly frozen, he's still walking badly, and he's still eating like a 400-pound junk-food addict, but at least his mood was acceptable. I think I'm feeling a lot of frustration because, to be blunt, I'm tired of the battle. I'm tiring of one strike after another. And I'm tired of not seeing improvement in my sunshine. I want him to wake up one morning with a fully functional face. I want him to be able to walk without pain and without a defined limp. I want to get him off the steroids once and for all. I want so much for him. And it infuriates me that I have to sit here and watch him suffer. It kills me that I can't make it better. I envy moms with healthy kids. It's not that I want to; I just can't help myself. I can't help missing what I once had. I can't help wanting it back so intensely that the pain of the desire burns holes in my heart.

But it is what it is. And I, at the moment, am extraordinarily weary. I need strength. I need healing for my son and wholeness for our cracked family. At some point, when I'm not so weary and when the sight of it won't break my heart, I want to type up a list of every issue Logan has right now, divide it up into sections, and ask for prayers for each specific item on the list on specific days. I know it would help me focus and not feel so overwhelmed by the mountain we face. And I hope it would help you, too.

Thank you for being a part of Logan's team.