The Struggle is Real

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By: Janet M. Norman

I can’t speak for all, but most people would love to have have joy in their life. As I grieve, I struggle. I am alone in my thoughts. I cry out to the the Lord and ask for help. “Jesus, Jesus help me.” There is power in His name. I trust He will give me strength to go on. My hope and faith is in Jesus. 

Sundays are probably my hardest days to live through. It was when my husband and I would enjoy our home together. We were a quiet couple. Simple. Grateful for the provisions God gave us, especially our sons and living in beautiful SW Florida. We didn’t have an extravagant lifestyle. We did love to travel. Now, as I sit home, quiet engulfs me. My Jason was quiet. I am surrounded by a life I had. I question if it would be better to move on than continue to suffer in silence. 

I have anxiety and depression. Two forms of mental illness. My mother was a very anxious person. My father suffered from a major depression disorder. I turn to my church for godly guidance. I have my devotionals that build my hope, faith, and trust in Jesus.   

The joyful hike is grueling. Grief is grueling. Grieving is like a ball of knots tied together on a frayed rope. Each emotion gripped tighter on the next one. The knot is so gnarled and tight it’s almost impossible to be penetrated. 

I have hope, but not sure what God has planned. He is the great Sailor in the most respectful way. He is the only one that can loosen the knots. His calming Holy Spirit is now my best friend. I am alone, but not left alone. If only we could see the protection God sends. If our eyes could see beyond this earthly space time continuum. 

The sun is fleeting and so goes another day on my joyful hike. Like I said, the struggle is real. Tears are left behind today. Jars and jars collected and counted by my Jesus. Lord, let me find happiness. Let me embrace life again. 

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