As far as I can step

Hesitation

I've been wanting to start writing again and yet I hesitate because I'm not ready to be consistent with it. It has been a very long two months since I decided to stop writing. I am in a long, uncertain wait, while my bereaved mother drops to a dangerous weight, grows stronger in her desire to die, and more determined that she doesn't want to leave her home. There are no easy answers, and sleep is fugitive on many nights as I toss and turn and pray. So it is not yet time to come back.
But I am still alive, still hopeful, cheerful about what God has for me, in love with Sam, fulfilling my social obligations, and finding delight in my work. I am just too tired and preoccupied to create anything very inspiring.
Tonight I came across something that a friend gave me once when I was completely done in years ago after a breakup. Written by Virginia Law, a missionary in Africa, it seems applicable to my life just now:

In Congo, we had older men who served as sentries at night. They swept the yard, heated bath water, guarded the house, and were most useful in carrying notes at night.
Going about your business in an evening, you would often hear a cough at the door. You never knew how long one of these messengers had stood there before he announced his presence. One missionary commented that a good book title would be, "What I Saw While I Waited to Cough"! No doubt many secrets were learned by these men.
One night, I heard a familiar cough. When I went to the door, I could just make out the figure of Papa Jean, the sentry from the single ladies' house, holding out a note. It was a dark, dark tropical night. No moon or stars were shining. There were no street lights on this isolated situation. A small six-inch kerosene lantern with a smokey chimney in Papa Jean's hand gave the only smattering of light.
"Such a pitiful little light in such a dark night," I thought. "That lamp doesn't give much light, does itk, Papa?" I said to him.
"No, it doesn't," he answered. "But it shines as far as I can step."
That little incident has become a symbol for my future. Looking back I can see a pattern--God did have a plan for me. Looking ahead I still can't be sure where I am going, but the years have taught me to walk with confidence. God's love always lights my path as far as I can step.
(From As Far As I Can Step--Virginia Law)