Count your many blessings

Let's just say that the past few weeks have been pretty hellish.  Broken arms, broken and dying back, doctor/dentist/chiropractor appointments nearly every day.  Two ER visits.  And then there is Adam.  I have never met or been around another person who is more of a jackass than Adam was this past three weeks.  We kicked him out twice.  Chad and I were seriously gritting our teeth every single day, just to keep ourselves from beating the daylights out of that kid.  So, med change again!  Only this time, the psychiatrist tells me that we need to prepare for things to get worse before they can get better because this med takes a month to kick in properly.  I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE ANYTHING WORSE.  Praying every minute of every day for strength and patience.  The combination of it all is overwhelming.

Anyway, I am trying to keep myself sane by counting my blessings.  I know I am blessed with so much!  But this week, I need the reminder, because I am mainly just feeling like I am being wrung out and you know that whole "refiner's fire" thing?  Yup, I'm there.  Last night I had a discussion with the Lord that basically went like this:
Me: I am dying here.  I can't do this anymore.  Our family can't do this anymore.  I can't deal with this.  I am losing it.  I am at the end of my rope.  I am sorry I am so weak, and can't bear these hard things.  I am sorry for my lack of faith.  Forgive me for forgetting all of my blessings....
Sigh.
Ok.
I'll keep going.

Heavenly Father:  Remember what I said?  About there being no challenge that you can't overcome?  You can do this.  Go take a Xanax, get some sleep.  It'll be ok tomorrow.

And, so far, it is.

Miracle.