Hebrews 11:1

I know that I am Christian, and we are suppose to have struggles and hard times.... but I haven't had a lot of those things. I mean sure I lived in Clovis New Mexico and hated every minute of it...but I only hated it because I am a spoiled little brat. It was outside of my comfort zone and I was unable to do the things I liked and wanted to do at all times. I did survives school, and God guided me through what I needed to choose as a major...it was tough at times, but honestly I sweet talked my way through it. There weren't many tough times because I wouldn't let it escalate to that. I also worked in a very stressful job and was VERY tired and watched 8 and 15 year olds die WAY to early.... but that was slightly removed from me. Honestly my job was to just love the families through that. I always have to be the tough one through everything; I have to be the consoler. You might be asking yourself.... why do you feel like you have to do that? Honestly, I feel like if I don't do it, then no one will. It is a place I loathe, and it is place that I live. I think it stems from my teachings in my life that told me...."men are tough." While I agree somewhat with that, it seems like that is all I keep doing. I feel like I can't be vulnerable. And dear friends, if you know me at all you know, that everything is shrugged off with a laugh.... a quip.... a sarcastic statement. Truthfully, I think that is the defense mechanism, and I hate it. I hate having to be the "funny" one. Not that I don't enjoy it, I love it also.... It’s just when I am not in a humorous mood...then everyone wants me to make them laugh. While, making people laugh gives me a huge thrill.... where does the comedian go when they don't feel like laughing? Where does the soul go when it needs replenishment...well it's God. I am so glad he validates me.

I got some really bad news today. The man who taught me what it means to be a man.... my grandpa, was diagnosed with cancer of the liver. I cried. I wept. I called him, and I couldn't take it. He was so mellow. He is the one who I get my sense of humor from. He was almost defeated. I asked how he was.... he replied, "better than I thought I would be." I told him, that Jesus loves him, and that just because he got the bad news today, God still was in control. I assured him that I would pray for him, and that if anyone could beat this...it would be my Paw-Paw. Oh, how I love him. I prayed today. I told God not take my Paw-Paw away. I know God heard me. I know He cares, but the hurt my heart feels is unbearable. I have told others in my situation to: "pray,” "pray without ceasing” God will come through, don’t' fear. I have told them, God is in control, He wants them healed...pray.... press through. I realize how insensitive that is. I realize how preposterously rude that sounds. It took me going through this to realize that, because I see myself having a hard time taking my advice. I know in my heart God so loves my granddad, and that He truly wants to heal him, and I know God loves me and doesn’t want me hurt. It is just that I am at the crossroad where faith and hope meet. It is that inevitable fork in the road, when you must decide whether you are going to walk out what you say or shrink back and lose faith. It is a very tough place. Every ounce of my body wants to get into my bed pull the sheets over my head and wither away, but I know that doing nothing means reaping nothing. My granddad, I believe all be it not 100%, is a Christian. I believe it, but I don't know; that's what makes this so hard. I know God is good.... all the time.

vaya con Dios

-b