Gosh, that does sound so gloomy and depressing. I sat there listening to all her woes; she needed to get it off her system or I would guess she would explode. But she's still here standing and waking up every morning maybe without the smile that we should be giving the start of the day.. but she's up just the same. To face her battles once more I suppose.
That's courage, whether she knows it or not. And maybe somewhere there inside her small frame is a tiny spark of hope... maybe still believing that someday she will find relief to all her troubles. She won't tell me, but when I see her look out afar with her sad eyes I can sense the faint ripple of hope in those otherwise sweet brown eyes.
Because she believes in God. She prays maybe harder than we do. Probably shedding buckets of tears alongside it. But she prays. I love her for that, admire her even more.
This brings to mind a beautiful song by songwriter Thomas A. Dorsey in 1932....
"Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand;
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home."
You know in truth, we're all so much like my friend at some point or another.
May I request you to include a tiny prayer for her... and for every person on this planet who is going through the same challenges and troubles of life... for us all... to put their hands and our hands in the Lord's --- "The God Of All Comfort".
Blessings and do have a blessed day.