Things only seem to get increasingly difficult, and this week promises to be the hardest yet, but I am holding on to the fact that God is still here. "And when all else fades, You remain." A lot is fading; tomorrow morning I get to drive one of those fading pieces to Pearson. But. Even if I were the only one left, there's still One who would be by my side. And that is enough to pull me through.
Somewhere in the confused suffocation of last week, I forgot what it feels like to breathe. I tell my lungs to inflate, I stare a hole through my chest at where they should be...and nothing happens.
How do I explain the journey of the last few days? There are no correct words. I fought, I smashed, I surrendered; I got up without waking, walked without seeing, talked without communicating; I dreamed, and then was smacked into reality. I am breaking into a million little pieces.
Tomorrow is a birth-place, a thinking space, an unknown face, and a resting place. It underscores my desire to never be alone, whilst drawing back into the wretched sanctuary of my bedroom. Will tomorrow find me courageous or terrified, standing tall or hiding low, faithful or heartbreaking...or just unfeeling?
I have forgotten what it means to draw a deep breath, let it melt into every crevice, and release the dust of ruined dreams. Tomorrow will be better.
