Hello Blogger, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.

It has been a while. In one sense, I am so desperate to open myself up on here; to write and post my honest thoughts and feelings. But the thought of having it available for the world to see (even if the world doesn't see) is a bit nerve wracking. I hate this blog because it inspires me to honesty, and I love it because it provides a needed outlet. I physically journal, but I think better when I can type and erase and type some more. My thoughts are always so scattered...knowing that I can go back and edit and reword things gives me a sense of peace.

I've been wondering a lot lately about my struggles with loneliness, and with what God's purpose for my life is, and how everything that I thought my life would be is apparently not what God has for me. Or not right now anyways. Collectively, those three things have weighed my heart and soul down for far too long. And I know it's a problem. I've tried many different things over the past several years...including telling God that He's a lunatic (I still tell Him that; it makes me laugh, and then I feel a bit better. And so far He hasn't seemed to mind my name calling...).

I think the worst part is carrying around the longing to be a foster parent. I've wanted to be a foster parent since I was about 15. That's 11 years. And I feel like I'm no closer to fulfilling that role than I was then. Realistically I know that I have gotten closer, just by studying people and spending time with broken children and researching fostering, but the foundational things that I would need to become a foster parent just aren't there. Why would God give me this dream, a dream that is admirable and needed in NY, and then not enable me to fulfill it? I sometimes feel like He's just messing with me. Everyone else was put here with a purpose, but I'm just part of some cosmic science experiment to discover how torture the human mind can endure while still calling Him "Master".

And have I let Him down, just by being the essence of a strong, individual female? People tell me that they admire my strength, and that they wish they were like me. But I'm not like me. I'm strong out of necessity, not by choice. I don't want to change my own oil, I want someone to take care of that for me. I dont' want to be the strong person when things go south, I want a shoulder to lean on and cry into. Instead I save all my crying for when I'm driving alone. And people tell me how much they admire me, and how I inspire them.

But if they could see my weakness, maybe they would also see that it is ok to be weak, to struggle. I struggle too, I just don't let it show. In our weakness, we allow Him to be our strength. And until recently, I've not allowed Him to be my strength. I still don't want to. His way hurts to much...what happened to "my yoke is easy, and my burden is light"? I've sinned against myself and against God. Is that admirable?

I admire those people who can struggle openly, and yet still trust in and rely on God. Yet maybe that's all a farce too. A show. I hope so. Those put together people make me sick, and make me hate myself. Probably because I know that I am viewed as one of those people, and I know how deep the lie can go.

My conversations with God every morning go something like this:

Me: God, I can't do this anymore. I want out. I can't see where this is ever going to end, and it hurts too much.
God: Darling, can you trust me enough to give me some more of your time? Long enough for you to see how it all works out?
Me: How long's it going to take?
God: How long can you spare?
Me: I can only commit to giving you today.
God: That's perfect!