What happens to a writer when words just seem to fail? There's nothing to do, but sit and try to form complete thoughts. There is a heaviness on my chest, on my skin, and binding me to this place, where I don't believe I look up again and find kind eyes and a true heart. These doubts and past images start playing back into my mind, as if the memories are clear anymore. They are memories, and the more I re-think them, they become less real and more a reflection of a remembered memory. My own memories deceive me as they shift with every time I replay them. When I play those games in my head, I'm causing more destruction and ill than good and reconstruction.
I check myself. I reflect. Growth and development have been taking years, and every year I can look at how far I've come. Others around me see the difference, and that shows me I'm not just imagining it. Sometimes I wonder at how I can even keep going or how I have kept going. The days haven't gotten easier; I think sometimes I'm numb to what has happened. It isn't healthy to constantly dwell on the past events, but it isn't easy to completely give it up all at once. When I mull over things, I rediscover parts I didn't see as clearly before. Many times I just find more blame to fill my head with, and more regret to weigh my heart down with. It's when I believe I've found relief that a storm comes again.
Am I always prepared for the storm to hit? Someone once said that it's when we are happy and in a good place that the storm hurts us the most. A year ago, I was much lighter than I am now - finally. I had been drawn to this place where I finally felt the freedom I've been given. And now, this constant heaviness lingers on my skin, and I cannot push it off. I've spent the last nine months making excuses for some foolish choices of mine because of severe hurt and pain I, shockingly, faced. Now the demons are pounding on my door, trying to pry it down, and destroy the walls I have rebuilt. It isn't like my protection looks very high from where I stand, but I recognize that I cannot see what is invisible.
Kindness is free. The truth sets you free. Forgiveness isn't free. I don't want it to be that I find contentment from being "fulfilled" in a dream-like relationship. My heart's deepest desire is spiritual fulfillment and strength. If I just didn't have the other desires, I would feel much more confident and less distracted. My hurt and pain, the damage others have caused, distracts me and ravages my heart. I don't want to only find fullness and peace when I'm "good," but honestly I was single, and not with recent heartache when I was in such a good spot. But I guess that's where the quote really does mean something. I had pursued a stronger spiritual relationship with Jesus Christ, and was finding such confidence in that comfortable place. I was unprepared. I was unaware.
I made a stupid promise that I could deal with whatever He chose to give me... or not give me. And when I ask for peace from God, I guess we tend to think he will magically make us feel better. I am to have peace no matter what I deal with or face. Peace doesn't make sense. Jesus gives peace that "surpasses all understanding." Basically, the peace I can get from the Lord doesn't make sense, it isn't easy to explain, and it isn't this simple good feeling. That is a frustrating fact, but it is also very relieving because then I know it is something so deeply pure, and real, that I don't need to be afraid of it just being an emotion. (I only say stupid promise because God tests out if I'll keep that promise, and he'll try me on it, and see if I'll come through. It won't be how I perceive it, and that's the trick of my decision to promise it. I can't just expect no challenges.)
I'm fighting to keep it together. I'm trying to push myself just to get out of bed, some days. The cloud hangs over me so often, and it makes waking up feel like a mistake sometimes. My security and safety comes from the Lord, and I will not find that in anyone else. From my experience, lovers are cowards and they only want what they want. Any others who were more stable, apparently I couldn't feel settled within about them - and that is the thing that I mull over and I really should just shut my thoughts down when they surface.
I'm trying to realign myself.
Everything hurts.
People overwhelm me.
I'm really fine with being alone, I just wouldn't mind if the desire for otherwise would go away.
I check myself. I reflect. Growth and development have been taking years, and every year I can look at how far I've come. Others around me see the difference, and that shows me I'm not just imagining it. Sometimes I wonder at how I can even keep going or how I have kept going. The days haven't gotten easier; I think sometimes I'm numb to what has happened. It isn't healthy to constantly dwell on the past events, but it isn't easy to completely give it up all at once. When I mull over things, I rediscover parts I didn't see as clearly before. Many times I just find more blame to fill my head with, and more regret to weigh my heart down with. It's when I believe I've found relief that a storm comes again.
Am I always prepared for the storm to hit? Someone once said that it's when we are happy and in a good place that the storm hurts us the most. A year ago, I was much lighter than I am now - finally. I had been drawn to this place where I finally felt the freedom I've been given. And now, this constant heaviness lingers on my skin, and I cannot push it off. I've spent the last nine months making excuses for some foolish choices of mine because of severe hurt and pain I, shockingly, faced. Now the demons are pounding on my door, trying to pry it down, and destroy the walls I have rebuilt. It isn't like my protection looks very high from where I stand, but I recognize that I cannot see what is invisible.
Kindness is free. The truth sets you free. Forgiveness isn't free. I don't want it to be that I find contentment from being "fulfilled" in a dream-like relationship. My heart's deepest desire is spiritual fulfillment and strength. If I just didn't have the other desires, I would feel much more confident and less distracted. My hurt and pain, the damage others have caused, distracts me and ravages my heart. I don't want to only find fullness and peace when I'm "good," but honestly I was single, and not with recent heartache when I was in such a good spot. But I guess that's where the quote really does mean something. I had pursued a stronger spiritual relationship with Jesus Christ, and was finding such confidence in that comfortable place. I was unprepared. I was unaware.
I made a stupid promise that I could deal with whatever He chose to give me... or not give me. And when I ask for peace from God, I guess we tend to think he will magically make us feel better. I am to have peace no matter what I deal with or face. Peace doesn't make sense. Jesus gives peace that "surpasses all understanding." Basically, the peace I can get from the Lord doesn't make sense, it isn't easy to explain, and it isn't this simple good feeling. That is a frustrating fact, but it is also very relieving because then I know it is something so deeply pure, and real, that I don't need to be afraid of it just being an emotion. (I only say stupid promise because God tests out if I'll keep that promise, and he'll try me on it, and see if I'll come through. It won't be how I perceive it, and that's the trick of my decision to promise it. I can't just expect no challenges.)
I'm fighting to keep it together. I'm trying to push myself just to get out of bed, some days. The cloud hangs over me so often, and it makes waking up feel like a mistake sometimes. My security and safety comes from the Lord, and I will not find that in anyone else. From my experience, lovers are cowards and they only want what they want. Any others who were more stable, apparently I couldn't feel settled within about them - and that is the thing that I mull over and I really should just shut my thoughts down when they surface.
I'm trying to realign myself.
Everything hurts.
People overwhelm me.
I'm really fine with being alone, I just wouldn't mind if the desire for otherwise would go away.
