Weary

My roommate just ordered me to bed. We were talking, I expressed how weary I've become, she took a closer look at me and ordered me to go to bed. "You don't look well."

I'm not well. I think I will be again. But I'm not in this moment.

I'm exhausted. I've been buoyed through the many challenges of these last few months by prayers, adrenaline, and few brief oasis moments. And I'm pretty spent, with two days of work left this week, then another challenging and draining trip over the weekend, and then three more days of work before I finally have a little bit of jealously guarded and carefully scheduled down-time.

I made a decision last night that I think will ultimately bring some freedom and relief, at least for a time. But right now it's a decision that, as right as it seems to be deep within me, is causing pain and grief as well.

I've had enamorment, and deep hatred in turns for 24/7 prayer, but tonight, tonight my mind is being drawn back to a line from "The Vision" that Pete Greig wrote, "my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from heroes of the the faith, from Christ himself..."

I sort of need that to be true tonight. I need to be buoyed on the prayers of the saints, on the voices of angels, on the faith of others. Because tonight I'm feeling feeble, barely able to summon even a whisper, and most definitely exhausted and faithless.