Sackcloth

As the cool breeze of the night creeps through my window, the sorrow of my heart weighs heavy on my mind. Staring blankly at the blackened sky, hands tied...it seems the options before me are limited. I cannot make the situation better and have even attempted in my boldness to stand up to injustice. But it did no good. I seem farther away; more alienated. And the resolution is farther out of sight than when the problem first arose. I was yelled at and told to get the hell out, dismissed by a door slammed in front of me. A similar thing happened a few years ago…a door being slammed in your face is like being spit on; rejection in the truest sense. If I could go…I would. I left for a little bit, but the beach no longer holds my solace. So I drove. Tonight, I wept...my body somewhat violently shaking as I almost melted into my grandma's arms and awkwardly cried out. I had come to my end with this and my cousin looked with wonder as if she wasn't able to comprehend the effect this is having on me. Today was just a hard day. I worked longer than I should, got no breaks except a 20 minute lunch and tomorrow (and the rest of the week) looks to hold the same in store for me. I am emotionally drained and tonight I even lack the zeal to pray-one of my only options.

And to make things worse...I can't afford to see No Doubt in concert. (It's the little things that make the big things seem that much bigger.) But this...because it has to do with my mom...is pretty big.

How do you face someone who has little regard for your opinion--much less anything else of you?

Is this what it feels like when you ask, "Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God"?