There's the Rub

I wish my sister was here. Her name is Sharon. She is not a sister by birth, but the sister of my heart. We have been kindred spirits, best friends, sisters in Christ, for more than two decades and although she can be a pretty tough cookie, and has a habit of calling me on my crap, she is also the one I call when I need a pick me up, when I need to hear a friendly voice, when I can't cope. I can't cope a lot these days. Even though I know she is with me in spirit, it's not the same as having someone that loves you unconditionally, being right there by your side.

I wish I had my circle of friends from church gathered around me to show their support and love as they do so very often. I love them a lot and I miss them.

I wish I could wrap my arms around my children. Although all grown up and on their own, they are my heart and soul and they may not need me a whole lot anymore, I sometimes, still need them. I wish I could cuddle with my grandkids. I could use a grandchild fix right now. I miss them so much.

But I am here, and right this moment, I am overwhlemed. This trip has taken so much out of me. So much more than I believed it would. I knew it was going to be hard, but I wasn't prapared for this depression that has taken over. I wasn't prepared for the emotions that are running rampant and right here on the surface at all times. I wasn't prepared for the feelings that would come swelling up and bubbing over in confronting the giants I thought I had faced so long ago. I wasn't prepared for this trip to be almost as much about me as as it is about the cause I am fighting for.

I feel as if I am failing miserably, and that what I am doing isn't making any difference to anyone but me. Sometimes I think I should just quit right now, that I cannot do this anymore. Then I rebuke myself for not being stronger than this. I thought I was wonder woman and could do it all. But I can not. I am not God and sometimes that pisses me off to no end because I want to save the world and I can't, and it's breaking my heart. I see all of those people out there and I am overwhelmed by the numbers. I am overwhelmed by the feelings that there has to be more that can be done, but I don't know what.

And then I think of all of those shelter directors who did say yes, I would love to talk to you. I think of them and wonder, if I am feeling this way, how must they feel? When the numbers of homeless by far outnumber the funds availble to help them; When they go for days on end giving, and giving, and giving, and no one offers even a ray of hope. When they feel overwhelmed, and wonder if what they are doing does any good at all.

I think of the homeless out there who are alone. Do you see the people whose pictures are at the top of this page. Those pictures and the ones displayed on my last blog were all taken within a one block radius. One block. That's only an insignificant number of people are in need right this very moment. People who have no Sharon's to turn to in their time of need. They have no circle of friends to pray over them, no granchildren to comfort them with hugs.

The homeless, the shelter directors, the food bank operators, the directors of donor relations who try their hardest to bring in the funding and are told no more than yes. Those are the people that make this trip worth continuing for. They make it worth the swollen feet, the bleeding gums, the hair falling out, the discomfort, both physically and emotionally, and although I may not hear from you, in my heart of hearts I know that I am covered spiritually as well, and I apologize for the breakdown. For a brief moment, I let the insanity of depression take over and I forgot that I have a God who really will not give me more than I can handle.