I don't really know how I feel about it. I don't understand this tossing. And it kind of hurts. Sometimes I wonder if I let my heart be swayed by the wrong advice. Quite often I am sure I did.
And yet I still sit here.
I gasp for air. I thirst for the reassurance of a God that never did let go. I lose all sanity in utter rage, turning my back, stomping hard and slamming the door tight: when all He has done is hold me close.
But why did I go through all that? Why? Why? Why?
This cannot simply be for the sake of it. This cannot be the end. But as hard as I try to squint the fog remains in my view.
What is beyond all this?
Showing up in this life now makes me ache.
His grace is enough - for what?
To keep me alive. Or am I to thrive.
And what does this thriving look like. And what does it look like to just trust. And how do we say yes. Today. And tomorrow. And again. And again.
This thrashing only highlights the choice we all have to make every. single. day.
I think really it is to be learnt again: this is a process.
And sitting back is hard. And frustrating too. But it allows for a whole lot of noticing.
I wonder at his motives behind his advice - and then I wonder at mine.