I was tired, bone tired. It was a tiredness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion to conquer my every thought. It pumped through my heart to poison my entire being. This exhaustion festered in my soul, and there it sat.
My toe nudged the carrier holding my sleeping son (son #5) forward. His sleeping was a small blessing. It was a miracle that I still recognized small blessings. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I may have recognized more. I might have realized sooner that God hadn’t abandoned us as I had accused Him of doing. Instead, this belief is part of what brought me to this place.
The line shuffled forward again, and I again slid my son’s carrier a few inches on the dirty floor. He slept as men on lines across the room shouted in loud greeting to someone who had just arrived. The new man waved and, crossing the big, crowded room, joined them. Their greeting spoke of reunion. Their words talked of fun they’d had at a club the night before.
I kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t fit in. I was the minority, but it had nothing to do with gender or skin color or economic status.Continue Reading