This has been another one of those weeks,where the bad news keeps coming. Additional diagnosis where there were already more than enough. New challenges and recommendations heaped onto my already hunching shoulders. My soul sags with the weight of it all and I feel done in.

This is not how I thought my life was going to be.

God has always been faithful to provide times of rest in between the difficult seasons but this last break felt shorter than a breath. I’m reminded of learning to swim freestyle as a kid. I hated putting my face in the water to do it properly because sometimes when I turned my head to the side to breathe, all I got was water.

I've reached for air and gotten liquid instead. Just a short gasp sucked into my lungs before the water pours in and I find myself pulled again in the depths. Click To Tweet

But I’m not done yet.

I may be weary, exhausted and plain worn out but I refuse to be defeated. There are more battles to fight, some of them sooner rather than later. My hands are empty and my arms are tired. I am in no condition to wage war.

But it is finished.

The cross, the empty tomb and the humiliation of death broke the power of despair and destruction over this world I live in. Click To Tweet

My life, as I know it and in the hereafter, was paid for on that day and nothing can change that.

I am finished living in fear of what is to come.

I am finished worrying about not attaining my dreams in this life.

Those are brave words. I don’t feel very brave. But I have to stop wishing things were different and live the life I have now. It doesn’t mean I stop hoping and praying for a better future, but it does mean I accept the present.

Not just accept embrace.

It’s not what I thought it would be like. It’s so much harder than I could have imagined. But there is always hope.

He’s not done with me yet.