The winds are hurricane strength. The rain slices like knives across my weary soul. The flood waters are so high they hit my nostrils if I stop to take a breath. I am shaking from exhaustion and want…to…simply…succumb. Is it worth the struggle anymore?

But it’s beautiful outside. I am experiencing the storm on the inside. The kind that no one really knows about since there is no weather man to report it, and my tongue urges me to keep silent. I drop a few hints to those friends who are closest to me in order to remind myself that I am not truly alone.

It’s in times like these when I don’t know what to do. Read? Write? Sleep? Pray? I want to read, but I’m so tired. I want to sleep, but my mind is racing with words. I want to write, but know I should be praying instead.

So perhaps this afternoon I will do a little of each and pray that soon Christ’s light will pierce the storm in my soul.