these dogged days of summer

when all else fails, it's time to write!

its been several weeks coming, but I think I have reached my max.  I'm tired. I'm burned out. I'm anxious and don't sleep well.

I haven't had a real 'break' in school since Christmas.  The sad thing is, I have only just realized that I won't get a real break until this upcoming Christmas--juggling classes, boards, LIFE.  I like to have a class, take the final, and be done.  have a break and start something new.  We have literally had 2-3 days before starting our next round of classes each semester and that has conveniently fallen on a weekend.  I know that sounds silly...I'm thinking to myself as I write, big deal...lots of people don't get 'breaks'.  I think about all of you juggling your many things...family, careers, etc.

I have to ask myself.  is this right?  are we doing this right? Is this what God intended for us?

this is the first time in my life that I have consistently had to learn and apply new information on almost a daily basis. the amount of information itself is daunting, but when I think about its application in my patients lives and in my life, it seems unsurmountable.

again. this overwhelming sense of weakness and inadequacy creeps into my thoughts.  my spirit feels unsettled.  I think i may be experiencing my first 'stress' ulcer. ugh.


I try to find glimpses of hope--a spur of the moment trip to a nearby beach. new rocks to climb and new shifting sands to explore...sounds lovely, right?


yeah...then that anxiety finds its way to make itself known even in those beautiful moments on the beach.  I let the presence of seagulls inching their way towards my trail mix distress me (i really don't like birds...birds are my new 'dislike'.  why? I have no idea.  maybe because they're loud. or dirty. or have beady little eyes that remind me of someone that I use to know.  I can't say.  I just dont like them.)


I pull out research articles and highlighters and have to look down on the black and white sheets instead of the evergreen tree line and various hues of blue that paint the canvass beyond my lap and the scope of my reading glasses (I feel like my eyesight is declining with each class...seriously) 


In the past I have thought of myself as a rock.  I'm grounded. I'm cool and calm at night and absorb the sun's warm rays during the day.


I think about how God quenched thirst through a rock in the desert.  I like to think that I am a rock--a vessel for which God uses to provide life water to the people.


I laughed as I just typed that.  


right now, I feel like a dry rock.  like a pebble that might be, in the right wind conditions, blown a ways down the foot path in the woods.  I feel like my 'solidness' as been chiseled away at.  and not in the good way that God chisels us, but in the harsh weathered way...the way the cares of this world chisel away at us.


and thats where I'm at.  my mind hurts. my heart is kind of blah. I'm leaning on others--like my husband who is faithful and true and loves the Lord and loves people.  And I love that in him.  


and here I am.  dry.  beat up. weak. 


-------------------------------------------------------


This morning on my drive into Portland I was listening to some southern preacher man.  God bless those southern preacher men...they always make me laugh.  Well today, as I sat in traffic, tired and worn out before my day had really begun, he closed his talk with the story of Paul and God's response to Paul's prayers.  He said that when we pray, we expect one of three answers #1 Yes #2 No or #3 Wait!(where some of these southern preacher men get the content for their messages is beyond me...it's not always biblical, but thats another rant for another day!)  


The preacher man went on to say that Paul received God's #4 answer. and it went like this...


But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”    Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.


And thats where I'm at.  T-5 days until we leave for a medical mission trip to Mexico.  I'm a dried up, blown around pebble--annoyed with the birds and with no mental, physical, or spiritual reserves to speak of.  


His grace is sufficient. even for me.