Dry Spells

You hear things like, “There’s no rest for the wicked” and you’re like oh, okay. No wonder I’m not getting any sleep.

There are some things in life I do not understand. It would only be too easy to blame my wickedness for every bad or every good thing that happens in my life. Maybe you too, look at situations that are happening. Maybe your boyfriend sucks and you don’t have the heart or the backbone or the liver to tell him. There’s a circumstance with your job that makes you feel like a failure. Or there are no prospects of your parents ever getting back together. You wander a shallow valley and wonder,

Am I meant to do anything else but this?

Hindsight. In hindsight we will know–I will know–what the dry spell was for. The planted fruits that would seem to come to nothing. We will wait and we will know, maybe not three months from now or six months from now.  But we will know.

Until that time, what matters now is pleasing Him. For He is someone, when we have no one.

The thing I struggle the most with is being forgotten. The fear, of receiving no credit where it is due. Of having wasted time. The fear of not measuring up, or worse, having measured for sure and still receiving nothing for it. Not even a good word. Losing, again, to that damn squeaky wheel that has become the bane of my existence time and time again, situation after situation. No elevated platform for Annie. Return to the shallow valley.

And what then? If worse comes to worse, and I am not remembered?

He is someone when I have no one. Elevated platform or not.

So let’s dance.

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