well, somone had to step in...

As far as my previous post goes, we're surviving. In this holding pattern of "Sleep, pray, eat, pray, work, pray, school, pray, sleep." Wash, rinse, repeat. Yes, the man upstairs and I are on speaking terms again. After some major scripturing, soul searching, and constant inquiry, I've decided that even if He doesn't answer right away, I have nothing to lose. And maybe he's already been answering (I think he just might have been). 

See, I've got this thing. Some might call it a disease, some just call it a vice, I call it pure silliness. It's pride. I've had it forever, because I've had it instilled in me since the beginning of time. While it's fun when I'm cheering on the Cougars in some sport that has also been instilled in me to love, in almost all the other areas of my life, it's a weakness. It manifests when I'm in dire need of something that I absolutely cannot get from my own skills/know how/self, be that money, food, a blessing, a favor, an act of service, some loving words, etc. In that situation, Pride rears his ugly head and makes me fold into myself, turn my head at any offers of assistance, and scoff at the idea of actually asking for help.

Granted, I've gotten better in recent years. During my mission, the Lord saw fit to bring me really really low to make me ask for help. Ask P. He can tell you. I would wait until I couldn't physically get out of bed before I would decide that I actually was too sick to work that day. So because I had to learn that lesson over and over and over again on my mission (I was sick ALL the time), I've gotten better at asking for help. Thus my previous post asking for prayers. I would never have done something like that before my mission. No way. Yes, there was the little disclaimer at the end announcing the rest of my tattered pride, but I did ask for prayers. 

You must have delivered. We have had more help forced on us than we ever thought was even possible. I say, "forced," because we were given no choice to accept or reject the help. Purely shoved in our faces, whether we liked it or not. We didn't like it. But we needed it. And once again, I was brought to my knees in thanksgiving. (Good thing I had already reconciled right? So I didn't feel like a fool when He came through for us.)

I'm not going to ask you to stop the prayers. These next three months are going to keep us in our holding pattern, and I'll still be falling apart all the time. But maybe not falling completely apart. Maybe just a little bit. But maybe the peace that I've been searching for so ardently isn't going to come for awhile. And maybe I'm supposed to learn to look for that peace in other places. For now, I don't know. But I do know that today I'm still in a thankful place. And maybe for today, that's enough.