It's hard to say just how I feel. After eight months of living in limbo, we are still waiting. Nearly all of our belongings are in storage, our dog is living with our family, and we have no address to forward our mail. This is hard. The waiting.
Even still, I am grateful. For an affordable furnished apartment. For a school our daughters love. For the comforts of "home". For the time to find our next. For a God who provides beyond our needs.
The waiting has left me tired. The urgency of my prayer is gone. I cannot will a house to list, so I have thrown my hands up in surrender.
"Do you know I'm worn out?" Lately, those are the only words I have to speak. I have quit asking. Quit pleading. Quit hoping. I just wait.
I know He can. I believe He will. But do I matter?
Maybe this is all part of the waiting. For a house, for a child, for a spouse, for a job, for a change for healing. Maybe we all struggle with the asking. Like our requests fall on deaf ears.
I believe I am on the verge of another lesson in waiting. A lesson on the prayer in waiting. Because if we quit asking, we quit believing.
Lord, I need to believe. Give me the words to ask.