Fighting for faith

I sit here not really sure what to write. My heart has been overwhelmed with grief this week. I'm weak, hurting, and fighting for faith. There are some other circumstances going on right now that have only accentuated my grieving, a few of them being that Dave is away on a business trip, I have not been able to eat well at all and sleep has been restless for a few days now.

Caring for the girls can be wearying. I don't feel like I am serving them much right now, and am fighting to just daily be patient with them in their fussiness and disobedience. I do get LOTS of hugs and kisses in and hold them tight very often. Oh the things I would love to be doing with them if life wasn't so hard and I wasn't so weak right now.

I read Psalm 13 this morning. But I think I am stuck in verse 1 and 2. As I started to read, I glanced at a picture of Alivia and thought, "if only I could hold her tight one more time." Tears flowed. May the Lord raise up my heart today to rejoice in my salvation.

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me."

I also read this by Octavius Winslow:

"Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid." Mark 6:50

"Listen, then, to the voice of Jesus in the storm. It is I who raised the tempest in your soul, and will control it. It is I who sent your affliction, and will be with you in it. It is I who kindled the furnace, and will watch the flames, and bring you through it. It is I who formed your burden, who carved your cross, and who will strengthen you to bear it. It is I who mixed your cup of grief, and will enable you to drink it with meek submission to your Father's will. It is I who took from you worldly substance, who bereft you of your child, of the wife of your bosom, of the husband of your youth, and will be infinitely better to you than husband, wife, or child. It is I who have done it ALL.

I make the clouds my chariot, and clothe myself with the tempest as with a garment. The night hour is my time of coming, and the dark, surging waves are the pavement upon which I walk. Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid. It is I—your Friend, your Brother, your Savior! I am causing all the circumstances of your life to work together for your good. It is I who permitted the enemy to assail you, the slander to blast you, the unkindness to wound you, the need to press you! Your affliction did not spring out of the ground, but came down from above—a heaven sent blessing disguised as an angel of light clad in a robe of ebony.

I have sent all in love! This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God. This bereavement shall not always bow you to the earth, nor drape in changeless gloom your life. It is I who ordered, arranged, and controlled it all! In every stormy wind, in every darksome night, in every lonesome hour, in every rising fear, the voice of Jesus shall be heard, saying, 'Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid.' "