Moving On

So much has happened these past couple months and my camino has changed directions. I wonder, am I up to the task of comforting those who are morning? Does my presence really offer them anything? Or would they be better left alone to cry and morn and face their sorrows by themselves?

I don't have much to give. I'm at low ebb. In one sense it's so peaceful here, despite all the moving. I'm away from everything that had pulled me into the depths of depression. And yet, I'm also far away from those who usually are my comfort and companions. Moving on is hard.

And, where is my Lord and God in the midst of this? I haven't held onto him. Instead I am adrift in a sea of boxes, car loads, and home repairs. And not very helpful with those at that. It is my better half who navitgates them with strength and who offers the best support to my grieving family. I need to find my rythm, my walking pace, and pull together the strands of my life to follow the One Thing necessary. I need to reach to find the mystical, the plan I fear doesn't exist for my life.

Help me, O Lord, for without you, I am nothing.