Sometimes, I feel like a tenant of a severely run down trailer, with leaky water and squeaky floors. Just waiting for my mansion to be built. This world has nothing for me, it's not my home.
I feel like every time I take a breath I get a phone call, blog update or email about something else that is just so heavy. In the past year I have had 4 friends (or people I know) lose babies, someone I attended high school with lost her husband, a good friend's mom battling cancer, a neighbor battling cancer, a local girl who was hit by a car and killed and a dear friend undergoing preliminary tests for MS. Sometimes I tell my mom that I'm like the death caller, calling her with yet another prayer request of some gruesome news. Today I was thinking to myself (and talking to God) about how it's almost too much for me to bear, to comprehend. Why does it seem like so much bad stuff seem to be happening? Is it because I am older? Is it because I am just more aware? I honestly don't know the answer to the question, other than the mere fact that stares me in the face: This world has nothing for me. God never intended for this to be our home. In fact, He never promised there would be no heartache, trials and tribulation. He only promised that He would be with us. He would hold us and protect us, comfort us. Hope is such a great thing. And I am hopeful that someday, we will "move that bus" and reveal the mansion that will replace the train wreck of this world.