I have been going through day to day. With only a slight remnant of motivation to keep me going. Making plans. Attending plans. Following scheduled events. I push my feelings aside, afraid to let them take over, so I’ve hidden them all in a box, put a mask on, and continue through day to day, answering ‘how are you’s’ with ‘It could be better, but meh.’
Lord I have so many masks.
To cover up and hide.
I fear letting go of my faith. I can say that a significant part of my life, key events that seem to be the puzzle pieces that build up who I am, all the closest relationships I’ve formed, are on my faith. To let go, is to admit that all of that was fake.
And I refuse your help.
Out of my own selfish pride.
But I’m really tired of hearing ‘I’ll be praying for you.’ or bible verses that quote how God will pull through, how He had ‘intended it for good’. I really struggle to see it all. So I keep pushing and pushing back. Because each time I hear this, just reminds me of how God has left me here, all alone for so long.
So I push you away, but I don’t know that I’m wrong.
I don’t know the words to say to make my faith that strong.
I don’t want to let go. Because when I do, I don’t really feel like there is anything left to live for. God had been my purpose of living and the source of my joy and hope. But I don’t understand why God would let me continue hurting when He would feel this pain ten-fold or even hundred-fold or more.
I just want to be happy again.
I appreciate all the care and help that I’ve been given. Counselling. Friends. Family. From strangers to the people I hold closest to my heart, I’ve heard it all before. I’ve tried almost everything to make myself better. But this is a battle I have to fight on my own. Only I can admit that I need to change and let go.
It’s so much easier to say that I will let go. But making my heart let go, that’s the hard part.
So I will pray to you right now
To take away my sin
Heal away my brokenness
And change this heart again
I used to rely on songs to be my source of revelation. For words to speak out to me as if they were destined for that time and place. They would make me break down and admit that I’m not okay.
This one only made me put my head into my arms. Squeezing my eyes trying to force some tears out. Nothing. So I just lay there on the table, thinking. My prayers don’t really feel genuine anymore. But I’ll keep at it. I’ll hold on just a little longer. I can’t afford to let go.