As I sit here and write, I don’t even know where to begin.  I’ve started to write, erased, and restarted several times.  It seems like too much, and I can’t wrap my mind around–any of it.  I feel tired.  Not the sleepy tired at the end of the day.  Not the panting tired after running a 5k.  Not the sluggish tired from being lazy all day long.  I’m tired because my emotions haven’t had a moment to rest.  Rather, my sadness and confusion haven’t had time to dissipate.

One after another.  Natural disasters, national disagreements, mass shootings.  I see it, and hear it and take it in because I have a strong bent toward empathy and embracing the hurt, confusion and despair of others.  And so I feel the emotional fatigue pull at my being, begging me to succumb.

I don’t have the answers.  Even though I have strong opinions (go figure) and have always been fascinated with politics, there are specific reasons why that was never a chosen field for me.  I’ve been quiet a lot recently about my opinions on such heartache.  That’s more so because I’ve had to take extra care for myself in processing the pain and suffering.  That doesn’t mean I’m apathetic.  It doesn’t mean I don’t try every way that is manageable for  me to be part of the solution.  But I think with all of the recurrences I will force myself to do more. To advocate for what I believe, to help those less fortunate and to continually listen to how God is calling me to respond.

May we all do our part to help how we can, because we cannot do this alone.  I find the quote from Parker Palmer below very interesting, and though I haven’t fully decided if I agree, it is thought provoking and that is the kind of thing I need in this moment.