The End of My Rope

This has been a tough week in so many ways. In addition to the every day stress of dealing with Simon's illness, we have added a massive cold that is making its' way around the house. Sore throats, coughs, runny noses, general crabbiness, have been the norm.

My head feels like a giant balloon, only much heavier. The pressure is building constantly, ready to explode at any moment. My neck is struggling to hold up the extra weight. My ears are so plugged up that I am having trouble hearing. Sinus colds are bad enough, but this one has been compounded by my exhaustion.

Tending to Simon, and the other 3 kids who were sick this week, has wiped me out. The late night in the ER on Wednesday robbed me of much needed, precious sleep. Illness is a luxury at this time that I cannot afford!

I am feeling like I have reached the end of my rope, and am holding on for dear life. If I let go, I'll fall into the abyss. I haven't the strength to climb back up the rope.

Others have seen in me a strength I certainly do not feel. As I have struggled with my faith and questioned my lack of faith, others have been encouraged and even challenged by my faith. The Bible talks of faith the size of a mustard seed being able to move mountains, and this is a grand thing, because right now, I am wondering if my faith is even that big.

The summer before my 9th grade year, I went to Camp Castaway, a Young Life Camp on Lake Pelican in Minnesota. It was a great experience. One of the activities was para sailing. The boat pulled me off of the dock with a parachute strapped to my back. As I soared over the lake, I was able to see so many different places on the lake, places that I could only see from my new vantage point, not from the ground. I am thankful that God can see the whole picture in the situation I now find myself.

At Camp Castaway, we also spent a lot of time in activities that taught us that we can often do things that at first seem impossible if we work together as a team and if we learn to trust one another. While the path I am on right now often appears to be impassable, I am learning to rely on my team of friends and family and prayer warriors to help me through the obstacles placed before me.

This morning, as I struggled to fight back the tears that come from exhaustion and a pounding head, I thought about being at the end of my rope. From the end of the rope, there is no where to go but up. I have no strength for the climb.

Then I hear the still small voice whisper in my ear. "Trust Me." "But Lord, I am too tired!" "Trust Me." "But Lord, I haven't the strength." "Trust Me." "But Lord, I am at the end!" "Trust Me."

It was then that I was reminded of camp so many years ago. From my perspective, it may look as though I am indeed at the very end of my rope, but God can see far more than I can. Although the prospect of traveling further down the rope is not one I relish, I am thankful that I can trust my God who knows exactly how much rope there is left, and won't take me beyond the rope's end. He will not let me slide into the abyss.! The rope is longer than I can perceive, and while I may not have the strength to climb back up it, God has given me a team that will help me find the way to the top, just as our team was able to find a way to get every member up and over the insurmountable wall at camp.

And I give thanks for my God of trust, and I give thanks for the strength that comes from the team that surrounds me.