Confessions

There’s no false pretense here. There’s only one way to say this. I can’t beat around the bush in an attempt to appease those that may feel uncomfortable reading this. I wish I could, but I can’t.

I’m not ok.

My insecurities are telling me that I just lost half of the people that clicked on this article. I should feel upset about that, but I need this. I feel as if someone is sitting on my chest, staring into my soul, and taking its mangy finger and pressing down hard on my heart.

If you feel uncomfortable by my honesty, you should try living in it.

Odds are, there are many of you reading this who often feel this way but don’t think you can openly admit it. That’s ok. I’m beginning to relate to that notion on a spiritual level.

I keep pressing the repeat button on Spotify because a song understands me more than I understand myself.

I’m just so sad.

I haven’t visited this place in so long. It’s lonely. Don’t get me wrong, though. There are a lot of other people around down here. It’s just that we’re all living within this idea that if we smile and pretend, the darkness will go away. It’s unfortunate because I keep bumping into the same people, and the same cold, musty walls, over and over again.

I suppose I should consider myself fortunate. I know why I’m sad. I know what to call this weight upon my chest. I can label it. I can describe it. I can call it by name.

It calls me by name, too.

My grandfather is close to dying. He was given 2-4 weeks to live 2 weeks ago. Hospice has been called in. I saw him on Sunday. He’s beautiful.

I hope he, or any of my immediate family, doesn’t read this. We’ve all been trying to be strong for each other. We can’t afford to break down and cry in front of the others. If we break, everyone breaks. I’m not complaining. It’s just hard to be strong right now.

He’s a father figure for me. He’s been there since my birth, and Sunday may have been the last time I’d ever get to talk with him.

We all know that God is good. Papa says it all of the time. God is good.

That’s not a trite saying…Right now it’s all that we have to cling to.

My heart is breaking for others reasons that I can’t elaborate upon. These are things that can only be relieved through prayer and by God’s hand. There is nothing that I can do to fix the situation so I have to sit back and trust that the Lord will do what’s best. To be honest with you, that’s hard. Ever doubted God’s ability? You’re not alone.

He’s able, though.

He’s more than able, and I believe that He’s willing.

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Can I continue being honest with you?

I hate feeling as though I don’t have many outlets to outsource this pain. I have many, many close friends whom I love dearly. That feeling, I trust, is mutual.

You may say then, “How come you don’t feel like you have many outlets?” Valid question.

1. My pain is a burden.

It takes a special kind of person to deal with my crap. I don’t blame someone if they don’t want to shoulder this with me. I can barely shoulder it myself. Why would anyone else do so? Especially when they have their own pain to deal with.

2. Who has the time?

Not being snarky, just being real. Who has the time to truly invest the time that produces true and genuine peace? I have had many conversations with people, and they offer me great encouragement. Unfortunately, that encouragement feels like a band-aid rather than a salve.

And even if someone was willing to go the distance, it’s hard to get them on the phone or in person. Time is a bastard as it pertains to healing.

So, I put on a smile. I lace up my bootstraps and I go about my day. I laugh and I joke. I ask others how they’re doing and give a hearty “doin’ well” when the question is returned. I do what I have to do because this isn’t anyone else’s problem.

I can’t force this on anyone.

Do I wish that I had someone who could help me process all of this? Do I wish that I had someone I could share life with and rely upon when life hurts like hell? More than you know. The Lord hasn’t provided that yet, so, here I sit processing all of this alone.

I don’t blame anyone, nor am I angry. That in and of itself is a huge step forward compared to last year. Even as I write this, I feel bad for dumping this on your lap. You don’t go to the web to find reality. You come to escape it.

Forgive me.

There really isn’t a resolution to this post. I wish I had some encouragement to give; a mighty hoorah to end it all with, but I don’t. I have no answers; only questions, fears, and doubts. I persist with bringing them to prayer. That’s the only way anything will get fixed. In the meantime, I’m going to slip into my hotel bed and trust that God knows my pain.

I guess I’m just looking for a hug and an “I love you.”

You are loved.

You are valued.

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