If You Don't Go With Me

The first post I wrote before going to work had some interesting wording, but I deleted it all and will start fresh. I knew as I was writing it, One: I didn't have time to write, Two: I was in a bad mood, and Three: I couldn't find the picture I wanted to post with it. I know it was in the folders, but sometimes they are elusive.
I complained about no sunshine. We finally have the nice temperatures in fifties and sixties, but with rain or clouds. The rain ruined my book order of Main Street, as they left in on my step, while I was at work. Twenty five books hiding in a cardboard box. Now they are wavy. I wonder if WestBow Press will compensate that?
I also wrote how we all are Jobs. Ted Dekker's first book, Heaven's Wager, told a modern Job story. I read chapter 29 and 30 of Job today

Warped books and not that way!

for our church's reading through the Bible in a year schedule. I contemplated how my life as a youngster made faith easy. Now, life is making it strong, especially with the pursuit of a writing career and working in nursing home world.
Nursing home world threw curve balls at me this week. One nurse is being punished, but I feel it, too. My residents resent it. I keep telling myself, this too shall pass. I also think of the Southside Johnny song, Love on the Wrong Side of Town- "you were the one who cheated, but I was the one who cried. I did most of the talking, but you were the one who lied." I'm stretched by being on different halls. Smile and be professional, a good example, so they may all grow.
My evaluation was good. I got my yearly raise, just under the allowed amount, because they will never give the whole. They all run like that. We talked about my future. Again, I weigh my writing with the nursing career demands. Where do I want to go?
The dreariness of the days pulls me to sleep in. I've had less time, because a morning of sleeping doesn't allow for writing. Then I feel like a failure that day. I haven't written on my work in progress since Saturday and then just a few words. Not writing makes me grumpy. I keep proving to myself I can write in spurts, but I still fight with craving a large amount of time.
This too shall pass- TTSP.
Mary DeMuth wrote a post about being mad at God. We may not admit it when dreams don't seem to materialize like we plan, but we get mad. WestBow Press is an example. They take a lot of money and don't even pack books in plastic. That would have helped today. But I have learned I have to do this myself with God's help. Then I wonder, am I straying from where He wants my writing?  I ponder is that why I don't sell many books or get recognition?
I lean into Jesus. He has my right hand. I go forth with knowing the journey makes me strong. I don't want to do this any other way than the way Jesus wants. Like Moses told God, "If you don't go with us, I don't want to go." Lord, help me to believe that and know what that truly means.