It was one of those nights where the world just sort of collapses on you.  Suddenly you find yourself paralyzed, the weight once resting upon your shoulders now pressing firmly into your back as you awkwardly raise your head to spit the dust out of your mouth.  The response upon being forced into this prostrate position seems to be unique to the individual.  Some erupt in tears while others explode in rage.  Some resign themselves to their fate and wait motionless until unconsciousness takes them.  There really is no graceful way through.

In those moments it becomes easier than usual to question life, question fate, question God.  There, at the point where everything has broken, one can't help but wonder how such a persistent, unending struggle could be right and fair and by design.  Why would a person come to walk this Earth only to spend their time stumbling down a dark, abandoned dead end road?  True, victory must be coupled with adversity, but shouldn't there be at least some reprieve along the way?

While growing up I was always told that God doesn't give you more than you can handle.  I believe He's generally willing to lighten our load but sometimes doesn't because He's waiting for us to acknowledge that it is too heavy.  We are, after all, only human.  I think we need to be reminded of that every now and again.

For me, those occasions where I come face to face with my own feeble humanity are exhausting on every level.  In the worst case they can take me out for days.  So it wasn't a surprise to me when I slept in the next morning well beyond reason.  It wasn't a surprise when the day vanished and I was suddenly readying myself for the only solid plans I had for the weekend.  The surprise came in what I spent those hours doing.

One of the old friends I wonder most often about appeared on my buddy list for the first time in years.  To see "hey bec" appear on the screen after I said "hello" felt amazing.  This wasn't silence.  This wasn't his wife asking yet again who I was.  This was my friend, and the honesty in which we talked so readily proved that some things really don't change.  I learned that in spite of some old bumps he was doing well.  He'd found his faith and his motivation and was doing the family thing with kids so old it shocked me.  I told him how great it was to know that somebody you care about is happy, especially when you've been wondering for so long.

Then he says "now it's your turn", but I had so little good to say.  He was sincere in his questions and gentle in his disagreements as I fought to explain.  At times I had to remind myself exactly who was at the other end of those electrons.  When his connection cut out I was sad to have used the time on such stupidity, but I somehow found encouragement in the exchange.

The next day two other people I hadn't seen in months found me after church and offered an invitation to join their plans for the afternoon.  Food and movies and more church filled up the next several hours, and as the day came to a close I acknowledged just how much I'd needed a diversion like it.  I don't think I had even realized until that moment.

Something in all of it spoke to me about how good God really is.  Everything I needed to be able to make it a few more steps, He provided. The ripples of those gifts have stretched into this week and I suspect many around me are grateful for the change.  I know I am, even if it only gets to stay for the short term.  In a difficult world where something had to give but nothing could, I got my break anyway.

The part of me that isn't still exhausted wants to celebrate tonight.  Half of a year carrying a bad forecast is over.  I get to start being closer to the end than to the beginning. The sentiments are extremely out of character, but I truly cannot wait to see it.