When the going gets tough...

I'm sad.
I don't usually feel this way.  But, I really feel discouraged right now.
This week has been insane.  Glorious retreat weekend upstate, followed by Superstorm Sandy and days off hunkering down with the family.  Since we didn't lose power, it has been a very nice time off for us.  We even went ahead with Halloween plans and the streets were filled with adorable kids and smiling parents.  The last two nights, we have had people here at the apartment to share a meal and a drink and celebrate the fact that we made it through the storm so well.
But, I realized last night that I couldnt' stand it anymore.  I was watching all the suffering and devastation on the news, and I was living in vacation mode.
So, today I went to the local evacuation shelter that was set up at the nearby YMCA and volunteered.  I felt like it was a good fit for me, since I heard that they had evacuated people from nursing homes and assisted living facilities. I used to work at nursing homes and have always missed it a little bit.
After spending the entire day there, I will say that I am impressed with the many groups of people working together to create a safe place for all of these people to sleep, eat, get medical attention, and hopefully feel some shred of dignity throughout it all.  There are so many medical professionals, volunteers, and relief workers who are working to serve these people in need.
Normally my mind would find a way to remain focused on that positive aspect.
But, I can't do it.
I don't know what it is.  But, all I can do is think about how horribly sad I am for all of the people who are still laying there under the florescent lighting on portable cots.  Laying there in a huge room with bustling with hundreds of people, yet all alone.  I walked home in the fresh air and ate some food in my quiet apartment.  I have a loving family to go home to.  One woman told me today that she hopes "they" find a place for her to live because the place she left was already unlivable before the hurricane hit, so there is no way it will be fit for living now.  She snickered a bit and said "I hope they find me a place to live before I die."   She laughed, but she wasn't kidding.
It wasn't just the conversations I had with people who were afraid or uncertain of their future.  It was the number of people who were obviously too sick or too affected by dementia or mental illness to even have a conversation.
I worked with people for years who were in a similar condition.  How was it that I could go home, go along with my life, and leave it behind me?  What happened to me?  Is it my age now?
I don't know.
But, I look around a room like that and I get so discouraged. I just think of a saying that was popular in the 80's when I was a teenager.   "Life's a bitch.  And then you die."  Instead of feeling like the saying "when the going gets tough, the tough get going!"  Nope.  Couldn't muster that up.  Sure, I was able to get going enough to hang out there for the day and help.  But, all I could think of was how hopeless I felt for each person!
When I couple this experience with the images and stories I have been seeing on the news this week, I just can't feel hopeful.  I guess my true inner pessimist is lurking and revealing itself.  I hear what the leaders are saying.  "We WILL rebuild" and stuff like that.
Maybe I have been living in a bit of denial all week and today was a reality check.
This whole thing really sucks.
Part of me wants to wake up each day and roll up my sleeves and help any person who is suffering.  And, the rest of me feels paralyzed by the fact that what I saw today, and what I am seeing on the news this week....that's just life.  All over the planet people are suffering like that every single day.  I just don't dwell on it.  I can't.  And that realization makes me want to belittle any possible way I can help and focus on the fact that I will never fix any of it.
I need to shake this off.
I'm in a serious funk.  Yuck.
This past weekend at our retreat, we discussed the topic of trust.  We talked about trusting God, no matter what.  We talked about what He promises and what He does not promise.  We had some really honest dialog about how difficult it can be to trust God and how it can seem like maybe He is not good.
In the end, we encouraged one another to remember who God is.  He is love.  And He is good.  And, he promises hope, peace, and grace.
Today, I don't feel that.  I will continue to believe it in the midst of not feeling it.
But, today I feel like the only promise is this:
Life sucks, and then you die.