Turn…

This is the week when I plunge back into joining the FMF writing challenge. I used to participate every week but, well, it’s been a long season in my journey…

Start.

To everything- turn, turn, turn… 

There is a season- turn, turn, turn… 

Turning seems more like churning these days. I grow weary. Who am I kidding? I’ve grown weary and I am worn. Torn, and battle weak. With tears streaming, as I drove, voice cracking as I alternated singing along with Hillary Scott and asking God why it always has to be so hard. I read once that for some it is always hard, that’s the path for them. For others it is always easy.

Screw my path, then, because I want theirs.

To everything- turn, turn, turn… 

I’m ready for a new season. A season of something other than aching inside and out, isolation, loneliness, a never ending weather winter. I long for connection and conversations, face to face laughter till my side aches.

There is a season- turn, turn, turn… 

My faith feels weak these days. It isn’t. I am solid and I know what I know, and that isn’t being shaken, yet somehow I feel low-blood-sugar jittery about it all. Where I stand, who I am, what I’m worth. That deep rooted feeling of how things never work out for me, grips me tight.

I want to be, breathe, believe. I want to wait and not feel discouraged, and I think I did that once. For a long once. And then my years long life winter wore me down.

The churning feels destructive, though it won’t take me down I will honestly (maybe) wish it would. Maybe I do.

But turn, turn, turn…and a time for every purpose, under heaven- I’m ready.

STOP