My shoulders are heavy with burdens I shouldn't be carrying, but I won't let go.  Stupid.  I know.  Let them go.  Let them fall.  But sometimes it doesn't really feel like God is carrying them.  You know, on the days when I feel happy and lighthearted I don't think I have released them...I think I have just chosen to not think of them.  They are there.  Lurking.  And things like having to pay the bills or balance the checkbook or go to the store bring them back to mind.  A boy needs shoes.  Someone is having a birthday.  The weeds are overtaking the flowerbeds and mulch is needed.  A van needs tires.  A dentist wants his money. Support needs to be raised and deadlines loom.  Decisions beckon and answers dart behind the bushes.

Everything in my head knows He will provide because He always has.  Everything in my head knows He has the best in mind for what He is taking us through.  But my heart knows the way is long.  The road may get rough.  It may not be easy.  And that is where I say to myself, "Where's the relief in handing it over to Him if He may not make it better, or easier?"   He may choose to make it a time of refinement through suffering.  I don't want to go.  As much as I know He is good and He is loving I also know that a good, loving parent makes the hard decisions like saying no.  Or taking the child to get shots.  Or disciplining them when they have done wrong.  Again.  And He is more about my character than my comfort...about His glory than my happiness.  Believe me, I am more about my comfort and happiness.  I don't want discipline and I don't want suffering.  I want easy answers and a measure of security that can help me sleep at night and awaken with calm.  I know.  I know.  I can awaken with calm if I know He is handling it and He has better things in store than I can imagine.    But I can't see it.  I can't see quick fixes.  And I want quick fixes.  And I am tired of being stretched beyond what I feel I can bear up under.

I am a stubborn child.  I see my clenched fists and my tight jaw.  I feel my feet dug in and my back firm.  I won't go, God.  You can't make me go.  I don't like where You have us.  It doesn't feel good and I am not good at it.  I don't want to trust You and I don't understand You.  


And this space?  This is the space where a paragraph was deleted.  The paragraph where I tell how hard it is to be a fully-supported missionary.  But I can't share that.  I never want a supporter to read this and think we aren't grateful.  Or that God isn't providing through them.  Because we are.  And He is.  One paycheck at a time we see Him provide.  But, honestly.  Our outgo exceeds our income.  And we are just months away from an empty account.  And some days I want out of here.  God, let us earn our wages.  I don't want to ask people to join us in ministry. It hurts.  It asks too much.  I am not good at it.  Grace sufficient in my weakness.  When I am weak, He is strong.  


I can speak lies to myself but Truth fights back.  It'd be better if I quit fighting and let Truth wash over.  I know.  I am going to get up.  I am going to get back to work.  I am going to step one foot in front of the other.  I am going to go the way God says go because I don't know where else to go.  Even when it hurts.  I will never leave you or forsake you.