"More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of." -Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson

then... why? 

Maybe I'm praying the wrong prayers?
Maybe God isn't listening to me (which I know isn't true).
Maybe I haven't submitted quite as well as I thought I did.
Maybe it's just me.

But this I know: my God is a God of good gifts.
His desire for me is of good, and not to harm.
What if this story that I want so badly to end "my" way, or what I thought was His way... wasn't good? Wasn't what He wants for me right now?
...isn't necessarily the ending?

and so i wait. 

"Sierra, why is it that you seem to grasp at pain so much? And run to those who are in pain, even when you know you can't help them?"
I paused for a moment.
It was a moment of intense sorrow coupled with intense examination of this intriguing question.
"I suppose... I suppose it's because I'm still learning to let go- constantly learning to. You know how much of an emotional person I am."
She smiles slightly.
"And how I put my heart and soul into almost everything I do or give; and maybe that's wrong. But honestly I think the Kingdom needs emotional people to love... them. Empathetic people.
But you're right... Christ lived and suffered and died to take that pain away. He was in that pain to take mine away, and give us hope instead.
And...while I do live every day in light of that, rejoicing of the purpose and hope and grace He has given me, there are others in darkness and their own pain that have heard that Jesus loves them, but just can't grasp it; and oh~! that makes my heart ache. As a believer... as a redeemed sinner... I've had those hardships and heartaches- those secrets I don't know I'll ever share without once more feeling broken- but nothing compared to my Jesus and His suffering for love of me and you! He has put all those to rest. Life is so much easier knowing that He has already taken the burden from me. I'd rather have more hardships with Hope by my side than very few without. I think it helps when I come to find people in pain because I can tell them that I too have a story. And suddenly? Their trauma can become my trauma I can help them bear for a time until they realize they can bring it to the Cross."

She's silent for a few moments.
"Is it really worth that anxiety and depression you could suffer because of it?"
"Yes! Oh, so worth it. He has taken everything! I want others to learn of His Love and grace and healing, and water from which they can drink and thirst no more."

I suddenly convince myself once again. His way is better than my way, even when I sometimes question the hurt on "bad" days.

"Refiners' fire.." 
I muse. 
"' ...though I walk through the valley... I shall fear no evil...' " 
My story I write has holes in it. My characters have holes in them. The story I would write for me... would have the same.
But the story my Father writes for me... is complete.
Is lacking nothing.
Just like He'll make me when He's finished.

and so I wait for the next chapter... 
serving Him as best I can now.