What to do with a Sabbatical that is not all Roses and Butterflies

I am learning a sad lesson over the past few months, and that is just because one ceases from the daily stress of work, life and its stresses still continues.

I'm not sure what I expected exactly...my apartment to magically become self-cleaning? People to finally comprehend that I really am the center of the world? Or that all of a sudden the world would become a happy and healthy place to be (all of the time, for everyone)?

Of the friends I spend the most time with, one is moving to another continent, one is injured, one is dying, and the other has gone AWOL.

I have had...let's count them...not one, not two, but four major computer malfunctions in the past two weeks -- costing me one week of internet access, 2 1/2 work day equivalents on the phone with tech support, and several hundreds of dollars in part replacement fees. Even as I write, I cannot add a picture because for...God only knows what reason...my picture editor (which cost ~$100) has suddenly ceased to work. Overall -- it is not as dire as an apocalypse...but it does get draining.

My father is ill, it rains on every "biking day", the piles of paper continue to rise on my desk, a relationship is strained and irresolvable, baby Will has acid reflux and makes the whole house sad with his pain-filled cries, my medical bills do not seem to be resolving themselves, and my arm is no better off -- if not worse than before, and I found out that my first overseas trip will be over three continents and two oceans over a duration of 48-hours...alone.

I just saw "Pursuit of Happyness" on DVD...and I can't shake the stirred up/stressed out feeling in the pit of my stomach. It hasn't been that long since I had to work 2 1/2 fulltime jobs just to pay the rent. I remember one year only earning $9K because I was volunteering so much and getting paid so poorly. Certainly I have never been close to being homeless with a child to support -- but I know what it is like to work 24/7, be smart, and skilled, and to still not be able to make things "work".

Tomorrow at church I will be leading worship -- and I'll be singing Ps. 13 which is a Psalm of lament -- "how long, O Lord, will you forget me?" Or, as I would probably put it in my inner prayer life -- "God, when are you going to just cut me a break?" But the psalmist goes on to declare that he trusts his father -- "still I trust in Your unfailing love". I don't always make it to that place, but how could I not?

An elder called me a week ago just to see how I was doing (not to ask anything of me), a friend bought me flowers because she knew I've been catching a few tough breaks, my exams went really well, baby Will thinks his "auntie" is hysterical and always smiles and giggles at me (when he is not gassy/acidy!!), I have money in the bank and all my bills are paid, my god-daughter just turned four and had a Superman birthday party (just like her "auntie"), I have a great apartment and living situation, I have lots of friends and a family that loves me, spring is finally here, and I am on sabbatical!

How could I not trust in a God who has, despite life's difficulties, given me these great gifts and has always provided and always taken care of me? I am quite rich. And, so despite how much grieving there is still to do -- I'll just take a look at the roses on my dresser and trust that the butterflies are just outside my window.