I am not too humble to tell you that I can't do this alone.

I'm not having a faith crisis. I think it's more of a confused daze.

Do you know the sensation you experience when you're struck across the head? Like, a real blow to the temple, thrown to the ground job? Well, when you try to open your eyes, there are flickering lights covering everything you see and a sharp hum rings in your ears, as if your senses are trying to reconfigure themselves after a risky pull-the-plug-from-the-back reboot procedure.

I'm there. I pray and believe it's heard, but I can't see any results because of everything imparing my view of what should be. That sounds too confusing;

I can't see anything working. I know it is, but I can't see it, because of the shock. There, that's it.

I know that things will change eventually - Note, I use the term change, because "get better" is not a guarantee. At some point, near or far, there will be a new spark, a new thing to either clear away some of the concussion or strike me once again. I know we are saveable. (That's probably a word...) We-Me-My Family-can be saved, pulled up out of the dark place and set on the ground once again, with the blue skies above us and the fresh air pouring into our lungs.

The thing is, it's really scary here, now, waiting for that. I trust it'll happen; I just bloody wish I knew what form it's going to take.


'tonm.
xxx

Book of the Moment: n/a

Song of the Moment: "Dance" by Robbie Seay Band