I sobbed into my pillow last night.
One of those ugly cries that you find yourself looking into the mirror and only making things worse.
I tried to journal, but I couldn’t see through my tears…
and my usual messy but neat handwriting turned into puddles of ink that didn’t need any more explanation.
Life is hard.
It’s funny to think back to the days that skinning my knee while rollerblading…
or getting grounded from playing Tetris on our desktop computer
was the most devastating thing that could happen in a day.
I had this false idea that once I grew up and had more independence and knew more
that somehow life would become a piece of cake.
False.
Tears of anguish dripped off my chin.
I cried out of a desperation for something more.
A few nights ago I held my breath as I laid down to go to bed…
silently begging the Lord to take the breath from my lungs…
to release me from this life.
No, it wasn’t a dramatic suicide plan…
But a desperate prayer begging for release.
After a few seconds I gasped for air and drifted off to sleep…
Waking up the next morning with the same heaviness and lack of drive to carry on.
But, I carry on.
I keep putting one foot in place of the other.
Why?
Because although I am miserable,
I know he has purpose for me.
I cling to Him in faith that this is just a season.
Watching the sunset used to give me chills…
If I’m honest, I couldn’t care less about the flawless art in the sky.
The idea of adopting all the babies in Africa used to light fire under me…
If I’m honest, Africa is the last thing on my mind.
The idea of falling in love and conquering the world together used to be appealing…
If I’m honest, that sounds like the least of my worries.
The idea of getting plugged into a Church and serving and being vulnerable used to be ideal…
If I’m honest, I’d rather crawl under a rock.
As a kid, I thought I’d grow up and love life and now I just realize
how confusing and hard life truly is.
The past week I have been fighting a lot of insecurity…
Here I am launching this new idea of Wrecked
and asking for stories of being wrecked…
Yet I’m holding my breathe sobbing into my pillow?
I’m receiving stories of eating disorders and self harm…
and 10 year affairs and multiple abortions…
and I sob because I have little encouragement to send back.
There’s just a hot mess on this end of the computer grieving with you.
Crying out to the creator of the universe in unison with all the hurting.
I find comfort in 2 Corinthians 5…
“Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.
For we live by faith, not by sight.
We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.”
This verse puts me at ease…
It’s not abnormal for me to weep into my pillow and beg the Lord to take me.
We are so distant from the Lord in this world.
Yes, I can memorize every verse in the Bible and go to every worship service…
and adopt every orphan in the world…
but at the end of the day I am still lacking and desperate.
Desperate for His presence…
A presence that I will only taste when I am released from this temporary body.
All I know is that I will carry on.
I will keep breathing until He’s done with me.
I will put one foot in front of the other.
I will keep crying into my pillow but with a HOPE that He’s not done with me yet.
I will keep loving even when there is not an ounce of desire in my heart.
I will rest in the fact that this world is damn hard, but that he has overcome the world…
and that He’s coming soon.