I apologize for not keeping the information rolling on this blog. The truth is, you can’t handle the truth. I am broken into bits. Little pieces of me scattered here and there and everywhere. Gutteral cries lifted up from this chair where I sit and type, leaving this place, spraying the atmosphere with the sounds of the pain a mother feels for her wounded child. You would cringe if you were here. It is not beautiful, it is gory and it feels like a god forsaken mess. 

                      Is it about Isaiah, or is it about me ? I am faltering and floundering, falling down somehow lower than the ground. It all sounds so cliche, it hurts my eyes and ears to see what I am typing. There was no choice, I will not write some flowery, funny half truth about life right now. I am a real woman, with a soul that is laid bare, I have walked toward the LORD, and sometimes run. I have had moments of incredible joy and supernatural faith, right now is not one of them. So…if you don’t want the truth, stop reading now. I cannot sugar coat, I have never been good at it.

                     Adam wants to know why, since two or more of us gather every day and pray for Isaiah, WHY is there no relief ? How do I answer that ? I want to know too. I am a terrible faker, and he can see the fear in my eyes as I say “faith, just have faith”. I know that the enemy smells my fear. I reek of it right now. Can you smell it?

                   Just as David would, I will end this terrible doubting post/psalm with trust and grattitude. I trust you Lord, don’t look away from me, not even for a minute, I might fade away if you do. I cease to exist whenever I resist the love you have for me. Come to my rescue. I love you. I want you. I desperately need you.