It’s Thursday, traditionally my day off. I still pretend it is, even though I haven’t been able effectively turn off my brain for months. Nights are equally stressful, sometimes I just stare at the ceiling wondering how.
How do I make up the lack of funds at the church, how do I fix that piece of the puzzle, especially when things have begun to turn. There is an air of vitality that comes from the new people, they are into a church that reaches, we are more and more becoming that. I get frustrated because I feel like we are in the middle of a 5 year plan, which is what we had only to find out that we didn’t really have 5 years, it was more like three. Offerings are up but not enough, looking at the expenses to cut, it is obvious to take a look at the largest there is and begin cutting there. As the only full time employee the expense that is under the most scrutiny and that is ripe for the trimming is my compensation. It’s not pretty, it’s not fun, it’s not easy, it’s just a fact, a fact that keeps me awake at night because right now is not a good time to have that happen with everything that is coming. Surgery and recovery and then more surgery and more recovery, and, and, and.
How do I take care of Joyce when the surgery happens, how do I step away for the weeks that I will need to step away for, making sure she has all she needs? How do I take care of the girls and make sure they have all that they need? How do I explain to the youngest ones what is wrong why things have to be different for a while?
I know all the things that need to be done around the house, I feel like I should be working on those things every spare moment, but I get there and exhaustion jumps out at me, robbing me of the determination to push through and do the things I need to, but somehow I push myself to do it.
So many Sundays when the day is over, all I want to do is go home and do nothing, yet I feel bad when I do because if I had more in the tank I feel like I could do more for and with the girls
So I grind on, like so many others do. Recognizing that I’m being selfish in this post, that others have it worse than I do, that as much as I want to understand and take all the mess away from her. Joyce is so much stronger and better and amazing than I or anyone I know. I watch her deal with the cancer and wonder at how she keeps going, how she gets up the day after chemo and teaches. How she spends time on everyone else, worrying about them, trying to help them, trying to build them up. How she supports me. I feel like I’m not giving her what she needs.
I am jus so tired, and frustrated and scared, and confused.