At this point the sucker punches are beginning to get to me. The prayerful dialogue is contorting from Give me peace. Help me to navigate this. To What the FRICK!?!?!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?!?! 

It's strange to see yourself and recognize your plethora of weaknesses. It's easy to think that you're resilient and strong, when things are going well. Start peppering in daily disappointments, daily let downs, daily emergencies/disasters, and the mental/emotional resolve dissipates quickly. It's bizarre to be so utterly alone. It hurts.

But the truth is, there really isn't anything for anyone to say. And the truth is, I don't really know how to even talk about it. I'm exhausted. I'm a child. True to my childish ways, I want what I want and I feel like if I could only have that one thing, then everything else would be better.

It doesn't work like that.

It never has. No, not in the I'm-feeling-sorry-for-myself kind of way (I am feeling sorry for myself, America. I will be clear about that), but more in the sense that things are rarely what you imagine them to be (or what you perceive they will be). Life is so much more unpredictable than all that. Thank the Lord! Otherwise I'd be bored to tears! I am struck, by wanting a little less excitement. I'm sobbing because I have to watch all of these people around me have all of these things that they've always wanted, while I have so little of it.

This is not what I imagined. Or maybe it's exactly what I imagined and that's why I'm so freaking pissed about it all. I wish I didn't know things. I wish I could be less alone. I wish I could be noticed beyond the projection. I wish I could stop feeling like I've been hollowed out. I wish he was here. I wish, I wish, I wish.

I wish I didn't wish for those things.

The trouble is figuring out how to hurt, comfortably. The reality is that I'm grieving, and these peppered in "disasters" are pecking away at the shell I have wrapped around the big giant hurt that I don't have time, or much desire, to deal with. Maybe I don't have the skills.

I wish I couldn't see things from so many angles. I envy the oblivious. I envy the naive. I want to know less. Knowledge brings so much pain with it. How can you know and not be burdened to act? How can you see and erase it from your mind? I am haunted.

The thing is, America, he fixes my brokenness. That's what he was created for. He was made to help me do whatever it is that I'm supposed to do. He leaves, to remind me that he is not my Protector (in the final sense), but rather He is. My Creator envies for my single focus, and He reminds me of my deepest need: Him.