So I'm sitting in the living room this afternoon with Sara. She is doing her Sara thing, wandering here & there and generally wearing me out. She heads down this tiny little hallway where she actually can't get into any trouble and a minute later comes toddling back to me, hand outstreched and fully intent on handing over whatever it is that she's found. This is quite unusual.
It is poo.
It is hers.
And I have no idea where it came from.
On a lighter note, I nearly had a complete breakdown today. I comtemplated running away from home but decided against it. I'm going to give it another day. We'll see how things go.
Today I not only thought but actually said, out loud, "Lord, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take." I was serious.
Then He decided to try me on it. Really? Not nice.
I can honestly say that these days are the most spiritually trying of my life. I have never prayed with such specificity and desperation -- even when Mom was so sick, it was more like rote begging than actual prayer.
I keep thinking that when we come out of all of this I'm going to be so much more "mature" and "faithful."