Every inch of my body is tired. Each cell aches with exhaustion, each joint moans with fatigue. My body cries out for the relief of sleep. And my brain... well, my brain says "Not going to happen, Bucko." My brain is really obnoxious like that.
My brain is working on things. The last week of great highs and dismal lows. Insignificant, nagging details and monstrous, clawing events. I am powerless to stop it, so I lay here - body aching, mind running. I lay here. Exhausted beyond all comprehension, yet wide awake and alert.
This week has been full of great news, terrible news, and great and terrible letdowns. Offers in on houses: the acceptance of one - Kelly has sold her condo and bought The Guy's house, the rejection of another - what could have been our dream house, and the offensiveness of an offer on my house so low I would be paying them. Great news of finalized invitations created by my wonderful and helpful cousin, printing, organizing, and finally feeling like I have a grip on some of these wedding plans.
I know I am learning from these experiences. Patience and faith - two of my weaknesses. If you ever think to pray for either, stop yourself now. How do you learn patience? You wait. FOREVER. Okay, not forever, but certainly until you think you will physically keel over from the waiting. How do you learn faith? But having NO CONTROL OVER ANYTHING. By knowing you can do nothing to change the situation. You can only wait for things to fall into place. You can only learn by doing. And the doing? The doing sucks, my friend.
But I am trying. Trying not to give in to my worry and doubts. Trying not to break down into a mess of irrational tears and temper tantrums. Trying not to say "Hurry UP!!!" or "Anything is better than waiting!" Because that is not true. I have to remember to believe that things will work out. They will. They always do. I've seen proof of it time and time again. However, the best things to work out TAKE A FREAKING LONG TIME.
I am so tired. So very tired.
If I were close, I would hug you, tuck you into bed and sing "Jesus Loves Me, this I know". Like when you were little.
ReplyDeleteThen I would hit you behind the ear with a sock full of wet sand.
You would sleep.
Love you very much, my daughter.
I prayed for patience once. The next day I hit EVERY RED LIGHT between my house and work.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry... hope your mind calms down soon.
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