day by day

Each day is a struggle to make it to the end without collapsing in anger or apathy or brokenness. I'm in a place where I echo the cries of Solomon in Ecclesiastes, "Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless." I don't look forward to tomorrow, or the summer, or four years down the road. I'm trying to survive the moment. "But I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned to the one who gave it all." I think it's a miracle that I haven't yet collapsed. Some invisible force carries me. Therefore, even though I don't always feel like it, I praise God.