It’s not pretty.
It’s not at all pretty when a glass-half-full Pollyanna hits the reinforced concrete barrier of disappointment with the world and the overall state of things.
I don’t want to look.
I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t escape it.
I am that Pollyanna.
I’ve hit that wall.
I’m overwhelmed at the degree of the hatred-of-other, apathy-toward-neighbor, and acceptance-of-lies unleashed in the world.
I’ve lost faith in and respect for our nation’s leaders.
I’ve lost belief in the ability of our state’s leaders to work for the common good.
I’ve lost trust in the spiritual maturity or accountability of my pastor.
So here I am.
Overwhelmed and lost.
I’m feeling anger, grief, despair, and – sometimes – fatigue and numb lethargy.
It’s taking its toll.
My blood pressure feels like it’s up, I think I may be getting an ulcer, and I can’t sleep.
It’s been hit.
If it were just me, I believe I would withdraw from the world, curl up into an introverted ball, and tell the world to go you-know-where.
But, of course, it’s not just me.
We’re in this together.
Our – my! – inactions / actions affect others.
We – I! – can’t give up.
We can’t give in to anger, grief, despair, fatigue, and numb lethargy.
I’m still not quite sure how to proceed.
But I will try.
I have to pick up my battered and stunned self from the ground at the foot of the wall and seek a way over, around, or through it.
The Pollyanna in me, buried deep as she is, whispers to keep seeking the way.