Silence. I'm not the least bit afraid of it. I'm probably more accustomed to it than most. At least outward silence. The inner silence I struggle with the most. I fight to find peace. There is a war that rages on in my head every day and at all hours. It's never-ending.

This Sunday night I did a talk to my teens about silence. About words. About the New Missal. About Advent. In all honesty it was the best talk I have ever given. I tied four seemingly different topics into one talk that lasted the allotted ten minutes and I spoke with the utmost conviction. I watched their eyes and expressions and my heart ached with this undeniable passion. I can't take any credit however. I felt incredibly sick. My legs wanted to give out, my head wanted to explode. I was dizzy. My hands trembled as I held the Bible in my hand and read the Scripture I had planned and it was not out of nervousness. The Holy Spirit carried me. I was simply open to His graces. As the night end and various people praised me I kept thinking just one thing.

I'm not really sure what's going on with me. I'm wondering if I'm going to have to battle an illness my entire life. I wonder if I can go a year without having a seizure. Maybe that's asking for too much. I wonder if I can go a month. I wonder if my body can not hurt. I wonder if I can live without fear. I wonder when I say bye to Erin in a few weeks if I can not have these thoughts plaguing my mind like I do. I wonder if I'll ever regain some control.

I want to apologize for this overwhelming desire to give up. I want to beg for your forgiveness for my craving for an everlasting sleep. I want to ask for your mercy in that I have no more strength and that my will is so weak.

Would it be too much to ask for you to stay with me tonight because I'm scared, lost, confused and overwhelmed?

I read an old text. It made me cry.

Thank you God for Desmond. He kisses away my tears.