I’m not sure I can accurately or adequately describe the day. Total frustration seems too gentle an adjective. Agony might be the best word. {Okay…perhaps I’m being slightly melodramatic.}

If something could go wrong, it did! After several repeated and frustrating disappointments throughout the day, my oldest and I went to our local office supply store to find several things I need in preparation for the conference. My friend had sent me an email stating exactly what items I’d need, so I had it open on my phone. As I searched for the first item, my finger must’ve hit something, and the email disappeared. I searched every folder, but couldn’t find it. I sent my friend a text, asking her to resend the email. Of course, I found the original email a few minutes later and continued my search for the items. As we walked from one section of the store to another, the out-of-stock sign was in place of every, single item I needed.

We loaded up and headed to our local version of hell {aka, WalMart} to continue the search. By the time we walked in the store, I was clenching my jaw and rapidly blinking my eyelashes to avoid a complete meltdown. Again, our search resulted in empty hands. We headed home as I fought back tears. As we drove, I received an email I’d been waiting on all day. It contained jargon I knew was pertinent, but didn’t understand. By the time we reached our garage, I couldn’t control the river of tears anymore.

Throughout the course of the evening, things only got worse. My husband and I prepared dinner while tears slipped down my face. After dinner, I returned to my laptop to continue working, only to be met with more technological issues to which I am clueless. Then, to top off the day, I received a phone call from the replacement guitarist I had hired, saying he wasn’t going to be able to play this weekend after all.

Defeat was taking its toll.

I took a break to drive my oldest to a friend’s house. After dropping her off, I drove back home, screaming at God at the top of my lungs. {I’ll spare you the details, as you would probably never read my blog again.} But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that God is big enough to handle my feelings. So I felt…and I told Him about it.

When I got back home, I told Mark I was quitting. I told him that it feels like failure is certain because everything that can possibly go wrong is. I vented, and he listened.

I dragged myself to our bed and cried some more. After a few minutes, I gathered myself enough to soak in a hot bath. Mark sat on the floor, and encouraged me as I stared at the wall. He told me that even if no one else believes in me, he does; he said if everyone else walks away, he won’t. He came up with a plan of attack for all the little projects I need to finish, and even helped me get some of it done.

Still, through all the crap of the day, God gave me reminders. He spoke through friends, through blogs, and even my middle child. Every reminder was about the struggle and the waiting before the fulfillment of dreams. My daughter drew a colorful masterpiece of squiggly lines going in every direction. In the center, she wrote, Life. How appropriate. Life would be easy, and dreams wouldn’t be dreams if there were only one direction and the path were straight.

Maybe dreams are dreams because they’re hard to achieve, and only the strong and courageous survive. I didn’t feel strong or courageous. But God is strong when I am weak. And Mark offered me courage with his encouragement.

And there’s always the hope of tomorrow…