the ride.

lately, for the past few months... more specifically for the past few weeks... life has felt like a roller coaster.

and not one of the really thrilling, exciting roller coasters.  it's been more along the lines of the old, white rickety roller coaster at lagoon, where there was talk in my growing up days of children dying on it and riders seeing nuts and bolts popping off as they whipped around corners.  my friends and i would dare each other to ride it, just to see who was willing to look death in the face that day.

ben just read what i wrote and wanted to add his two cents in, and has an even more optimistic approach.  his take on our life lately is that it actually feels like we're on the puff the magic dragon children's roller coaster, which was rumored to have decapitated one of its innocent riders during a spin on the green monster.  this one is a bit harder for me to believe, since that little coaster goes like 0.2 miles an hour, but still.

we're just a ball of fun, huh?

before you stop reading because we're so enormously depressing, let me reassure you. 

the ride we're on might feel overwhelming, and honestly like almost everything is uphill in a ricketyslashpossiblydecapitating roller coaster that at any moment could turn us over...

we're not giving up.

at least not today.  

tomorrow?  well, who knows.  

but not today.

Even if you cannot always see that silver lining on your clouds, God can, for He is the very source of the light you seek. He does love you, and He knows your fears. He hears your prayers. He is your Heavenly Father, and surely He matches with His own the tears His children shed.

--Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

full talk here.

maybe i will write the details someday, maybe i won't because the darkness will have passed and there will be no need to re-visit it.  i don't want to wallow in all of it, but am not sure if the therapeutic need for writing it out would be considered "wallowing." i guess i'll just have to wait and see.  

tonight i am going to say a prayer, count my blessings and go to bed, so that i can be awake enough tomorrow to keep my arms and legs in at all times, strap on my anti-decapitating helmet, and hold on for dear life.