diaryMarch 21, 2009

Here I am lying on Ricky’s bed because there is no room in the other room. I am hemmed in. The job prospect I had hoped for was within my grasp, but I withdrew my hand. I cannot work right now. I couldn’t be home when they’d be sick, when they’d have vacations and when they needed me to be there.

I have felt like the children of Israel many times in my life, and again I am in a tight space with only the “Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord” as my foothold. I am so much like the cornered animal, looking for any way to get out of my circumstances. I may pause, appearing to acquiesce to my situation, but not really, my mind regroups and tries to goad against another wall of bricks.

“Be content in all things” is Paul’s admonition. Easy when you are in your own home with some bucks in the bank. Easy when there is even a part-time husband and/or father who may pick up the yoke from time to time. But this dark, no-vision path, no hope of ever getting up; nothing, but the One Quiet Star on the horizon which incidentally is getting dimmer. He is waiting. Waiting for me to quit striving. But I am a stubborn woman who still thinks she can do it all on her own.

His way is always effortless when the time is right, and every time I put my foot out, it is gently “smacked”; the time is not right or the direction is wrong. The marquis at the little church in Westlake had a quote:

Dear God, I have a problem. It’s me.

Yep, that’s about right.

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