I deleted the last blog post, again, b/c I'm afraid. I know people there, and they're still at risk and my gut says I'm better off not blogging about the topic.
Can't sleep. Knew it would be that kind of night again. Keep thinking maybe it's time to quit. 13 years of this, and the heartache...what's the point? I could make more money and work less if I freelanced. Make a few calls to a few key people, spread the word. I figure I've raised more than $65 million the past 13 years. I'm damn good at my job, even if no one acknowledges it, and a friend last week told me that there's money out there to be made. She knows, she did it a few years ago.
Thing is, it was never about the money. Always about the heart of the work, helping the poor, planting those little seeds and watching them blossom, a hungry person fed here, an orphan helped there, a soul nurtured. I feel like I'm doing my small part to make the world a better place. Except on days like today when I feel crushed and beaten, and heartbroken. I always felt deep in my heart that God called me to do this work. But maybe it's time to quit. Take a break.
There's a lot to think about in the coming days. Then there's the romance writing. I love writing romance, and entertaining. I love creating a world where conflict is resolved, always, and I get to fashion the world. Shape it, shift it, weave it like a spider's web.
I hope I can get to sleep soon. I hope the bad images dancing about in my mind stop, and there won't be nightmares tonight. Maybe I can train my mind to think happy thoughts. Ferfe blogged about her DH telling her that if he got laid, he'd get more stuff done around the house. I think I'll go read her blog again for a smile at least. Not a laugh. No laughter today in this corner. Maybe tomorrow.