Between a rock and a hard place...

 Between a rock and a hard place... I stared out at the vast valley below me. 2600 feet in elevation, 5 miles in with 10 miles to go and I just stood there, wondering. Why is it so much easier to "hear" up there? Why do I feel rejuvenated in spite of the fatigue I feel settling in the stillness? My thoughts are uncluttered and clarity is ripe. 

In those places I sift through hurt, pain, exasperation, and frustration. Truth is clear. I see clearly through the fog of chaos and I am able to decipher expectations from reality. I am able to harness heartache. The weight of all that I cannot change is lightened and becomes manageable. I find my courage and determination rekindled. I find the voice of God in the stillness, and the quiet of the wild places where I wander.  

The boys have picked up COVID again, and though this seems to be a mild case, it is nevertheless, inconvenient at best. Lochlan had another seizure about 1 week ago and I find myself on edge, watching his every move, as sickness can often trigger seizures in those predisposed to them. It's a vigilant wariness that makes me weary. I am overall incredibly encouraged by the current trajectory of his seizures as they are so far diminishing in length and the side effects (violent vomiting) are decreasing as well. It's the wondering, the waiting that is draining. We try to go about our day(s) and set aside the hovering concern and caution we all feel.

 

Tonight, I'm admittedly tired and feel the darkness of the night sky keenly. I reflect on my recent wanderings and it brings me joy. It's true that none of us know what tomorrow holds, but I intend to welcome in the morning with hope. I know that I am not alone (in so many ways) and because I am not alone endurance will be mine if it is needed.