I read some facebook posts written by grieving mothers. They were speaking about fatigue… about the effort normal every day activities seem to take… about how how mundane tasks like brushing your teeth, or driving to work suddenly takes a moment of motivation. I know what they are feeling. Even having fun gets old rather quickly.
I’m okay. I get tired. I get irritable. I’d like to take another day off… and another… Maybe a month or two. Maybe a year.
I don’t really have the resources to do that. And I am not sure that even after a year I am going to be more okay than I am now.
“How’s your prayer life?”
I talk to God. I talk to Him… I pray for strength- the strength to make it through the day. I ask for understanding. I don’t ask for much of anything else. No laundry lists… just whatever came up- for other people. I don’t know what else, but when I blog- a lot of this really is talking to God. I do ask why. I don’t think I am angry with God but I am confused by this. I wish I could say that this confusion bolsters my faith… but the strange thing that in my uncertainty about God’s motives and plans I am finding a certainty about God and His goodness. I don’t know where this is going. It doesn’t feel safe or comfortable. It is definitely in a flux.
I’m coming up on 50 years old. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing at this point. I thought I would work in education until I’m 72. But now I don’t know. I don’t think I can do this for much longer… at least I don’t feel like I am enjoying it. I don’t want to do something that I don’t enjoy… but I have thirty or forty more years left and I have bills to pay. So this is what I do and I’ll continue doing it.
Prayers and pep talks. Motivational bits thrown into a blender and mixed with ice. Fire grown cold. Pages turn. Goals that faded. Reasons that no longer exist. Pictures in my mind of a future and questions beginning with the word “why.” Like “Why try?” and “Why bother?”