I don't wake up in the morning feeling hopeful or joyful. I have to actively put on hope and joy. And not just once. But in a minute-by-minute sort of way. I wake up remembering that most of the jobs that are rapidly "rebounding" are retail, that we can't live long term on that, and wondering what in the world we are going to do if we don't get work in the next 2-3 months. Faith isn't easy.
In America, most of us are completely unfamiliar with the fear that we might not have a place to live. We have friends and family who won't let that happen, but without them, it would have been reality in the past and would very possibly be a future reality. In this country family-wage work is available for the taking if you have a good education and work ethic, right? Or, at least, most of us still seem to believe that. We worry about whether or not we'll be able to buy a house, not whether we'll have a roof over our heads. We fret about not having enough bedrooms, or a yard as large as we'd like. Not whether we'll be without shelter. We're spoiled. Myself included. Letting go of those things, especially as a woman, is hard. I want a home to make, and right now I have re-orient and be thankful for a warm, comfortable place to sleep, if not a home we can call our own for any length of time.
Each day I struggle. And about every 36-48 hours I have a "crying" day. On those days I have to be reminded that God is faithful. And He is. Always.
We sang "God Moves in a Mysterious Way" in church on Sunday. And once again, I began to cry--on this verse. One that I am currently trying to remember several times a day.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Because, in all honesty, I'm fearful. Very, very fearful. And yet, God's mercy is abundant, and I do believe, despite my bad days, that those clouds I so much dread will break forth in blessings.