chronicles of young

My whole being cries out: Pain, Lord! Pain, stop! And  I weep afresh, uncontrollably, engulfed by a larger pain. I feel the pain in my brother's rage I am the persecuted in Iraq A mother who has lost her child And so I sob Welcoming the tears of release Yet feeling utterly desolate: There is no one to hear But God. And He is not enough right now. And what of those that know Him not? I cry again at this thought. O God, O Lord! Still, hope flickers. His voice whispers: One lone sheep to save The endless joyous story Amen

But I know I (am supposed to) have the joy and that I can shoot down the second point with a dozen declarations from God in the Bible.  Still... there always comes this time, when I start to doubt. Like now. Long-held fears and anxieties.  I'm boring, uncool, too serious to have fun with... No friends to really be with which makes me feel empty-sad. And always this sense of futility- what am I doing with my life?  To make things worse, my friends do not seem similarly afflicted. Okay, the chances are that people do feel the same way but we aren't connected so I still feel alone. How I have prayed for a confidant to know me, apart from God Himself! Yet perhaps for this very reason the answer is no/wait.