Aching
It is rare that I feel truly empty, or truly lonely. My days pass by in extreme busyness, which leaves little time for hurt---also, I have in general little hurt to feel. I am content.
But these last days have been different. I remember past hurts, and it is as if all those yesterdays happened today. My heart aches and is hungry. "For what?" I ask. "Why are you so empty? Why are you so lonely?" No answer.
I think that I miss God. My soul has been far from Him, lately. I don't know why, but somehow I can't seem to make it stop wandering. I want to tell Him I'm sorry, but I can't find the words. I want to press close to Him, but I lost the way. And my heart hurts---oh, it hurts! I stretch my hands out, and there is nothing. Darkness, darkness presses against my eyes.
When I was a young girl, I lived inside this ache all the time. I knew it so well, I could tell you every one of its special tortures. There is the squeezing one that makes it hard to breathe, and the terror one does the same, but from the inside out. There is the one about believing that you can't be loved, that you are too horrible, that it will never happen. That one works from the outside in and the inside out at the same time, and when the two meet in the middle, they shatter you into a million pieces.
I remember the one about being afraid of death, and the one about being afraid of the dark. I remember the one about being tired to your bones of everything. I remember the one where you seem to realize that nothing matters. That's the one that makes you want to die and get it all over with. I remember the one about hating everybody who is happy. I remember the one about wanting to be cruel to other people so that you will have company in your miserableness.
I remember all of them, and tonight they are all swarming over me. I can't call for help, because then they will get in. I can't send them away. And I can't breathe, and I'm so empty. Oh, emptiness hurts! It gnaws at you. It feeds on you.
It aches.
Oh, will the sun never rise again? I can't remember what it feels like to be warm.
But these last days have been different. I remember past hurts, and it is as if all those yesterdays happened today. My heart aches and is hungry. "For what?" I ask. "Why are you so empty? Why are you so lonely?" No answer.
I think that I miss God. My soul has been far from Him, lately. I don't know why, but somehow I can't seem to make it stop wandering. I want to tell Him I'm sorry, but I can't find the words. I want to press close to Him, but I lost the way. And my heart hurts---oh, it hurts! I stretch my hands out, and there is nothing. Darkness, darkness presses against my eyes.
When I was a young girl, I lived inside this ache all the time. I knew it so well, I could tell you every one of its special tortures. There is the squeezing one that makes it hard to breathe, and the terror one does the same, but from the inside out. There is the one about believing that you can't be loved, that you are too horrible, that it will never happen. That one works from the outside in and the inside out at the same time, and when the two meet in the middle, they shatter you into a million pieces.
I remember the one about being afraid of death, and the one about being afraid of the dark. I remember the one about being tired to your bones of everything. I remember the one where you seem to realize that nothing matters. That's the one that makes you want to die and get it all over with. I remember the one about hating everybody who is happy. I remember the one about wanting to be cruel to other people so that you will have company in your miserableness.
I remember all of them, and tonight they are all swarming over me. I can't call for help, because then they will get in. I can't send them away. And I can't breathe, and I'm so empty. Oh, emptiness hurts! It gnaws at you. It feeds on you.
It aches.
Oh, will the sun never rise again? I can't remember what it feels like to be warm.
posted by Praelucor at 8:41 PM
2 Comments:
I am praying, and holding you, and loving you.
Tonight my heart is aching also. So tired... but He has said unto me, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for My strength is made perfect in [your] weakness."
Cling to this, dear: that we may be afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed!
So do not lose heart. This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison!
Oh, I know, and Jesus knows too.
You have been hurt, and hurt bitterly, but you are still loved.
You have hurt others bitterly, and failed them, but you are still loved.
You are inadequate and weak and ignorant... but you are still loved.
You are beautiful and poetic and creative... and you are loved.
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