I went to bed last night crying as I furiously scribbled in my little notebook...it is my outlet these days. That book is being abused in the worst way. It is full of thoughts and mostly prayers. Prayers of not understanding, prayers of pain, prayers of belief that hope can still be just around the corner...but I'm just barely holding onto that hope. Many times in the past few days I have been tempted to go downtown to "Senegal Tours" and find the lady who speaks English and buy the first plane ticket home that I can. But what would that prove? What purpose would that serve? None. That would be giving up on hope. I am stubborn. Most times, to a fault. This morning I ended up at the cross. My alarm went off at 5:30am (I am SOOO not a morning person) and I laid there pouring out my already hurting heart...I opened my Bible to Matthew and surrendered my mind to Jesus at the cross. His sacrifice for me. I would love to tell you that I am sitting here at peace with a smile on my face...but that is not so. I feel a battle raging inside of me...and I feel like I am losing to it. This week is SEW (Spiritual Emphasis Week) here at DA...and I see clearly the battle in my classroom, I haven't seen it so clear since my days in Uganda. I wonder if I have enough for this day. I wonder if God will give me enough for this day. He always has in the past. Why would He not on this day?