Outside of her faith, there was nothing she could identify that was right. Not her job, not her home, not her finances. Certainly not her social life or relationships – she had none of either. She merely subsisted. Her goal each day was to survive until the next, but it was getting increasingly difficult to do so.
The times at home alone were the hardest. Despite her dissatisfaction with her job, at least it filled her time for 8 hours each day. But when alone, she faced the blank sheet of paper that was her life and filled it with scratches and scribbles of unorganized and unconnected thoughts. Like graffiti on a wall, her mind and heart were marred with anger and discontent and self-pity. She tried to distract herself with exercise, eating, reading and daydreams but after what seemed like most of her 50 years, these old coping mechanisms were no longer working. They were overwhelmed by the thoughts of sadness, regret and resentment. Like a tsunami of emotions, they tossed her about, one thought crashing into another, slamming her in to walls of memories and disappointments. She was drowning and no one about her seemed to notice or maybe they just had more important things with which to be concerned.
Those she loved and who loved her were involved in their own lives, with their own struggles. No one had the time to rescue her from the ocean of grief from which she was trying to escape. They were too busy trying to keep themselves and their families afloat until they found solid ground themselves. And there was her greatest fear – if she was drowning and their child or spouse were drowning who would they save? If she and their child or spouse were in a burning building, who would they save? Their loved one, obviously. And she was not the loved one – not to anyone she knew.
She’d had great parents. Sure they’d made mistakes, but all parents do. She’d always known they loved her and her sibling but they’d expended so much effort trying to parcel out there love to each of their children in equal portion that she never knew what it was like to be greatly and uniquely loved. Faced with all their children drowning at once and unable to save them all, her parents would probably let them all drown because they could not bear the unrescued ones thinking they’d been loved less.
But it was easy to focus on what was not going right - there were so many items from which to pick. Her faith was right. How could faith in Jesus be wrong? It just wasn't very strong and she was afraid it wouldn't bear her weight much longer. Somehow, she'd lose her grip and tumble into the dark abyss.