Weary, weary

So, I’m pretty tired. In general. I mean, maybe it’s just me (but you’re reading this so deal with it) but I find it hard/difficult/tiring to be alive some days. The really difficult part is knowing how much to give of yourself and to what end.

Noel talked about this once at church ( I don’t know if it is on the site anywhere). There’s the opening up with friends about the buffetting (that’s a bible word) of life and there’s the falling prey to the gossip chain and “airing your dirty laundry.” But I think that negotiating the narrow line can be arduous work.

I’ve come to the realization that the Psalm “I look to the hills and where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord. . .” (Ok, that’s how the song goes, but I know it’s in there. I’ve seen it. Somewhere) is desperately true. My help will have to come from the Lord, but why, oh why, is he so stinking patient.

So I get a little frustrated with talking to people. The whole transparancy thing does not actually come very naturally to me, though I imagine more is seeable (it’s a word) than I think.

The long-awaited point is: it gets tiring showing one face and hiding another. I think, first out of fear and lastly out of resignation.

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