How to Lose Hope
I told you to stop looking at the news.
I tried. I can’t. I keep going back. Why don’t they believe survivors?
I told you to stop looking at the news.
I tried. I can’t. I keep going back. Why don’t they believe survivors?
“I do not think that I will ever reach a stage when I will say, ’This is what I believe. Finished.’ What I believe is alive … and open to growth.” (Madeleine L’Engle)
“As long as you end up married, it was a success.”
“Meeting you was a divine encounter. I’m living on trust, too.” Jacob grinned, as if my existence validated his life.
We speak to get outside of our own heads. I don’t think it particularly matters if you don’t always have an audience.
“I feel like I’m going to listen to this and it’s just going to be a bunch of my disgusting chewing noises.”
But here are the deer, following the prodigal pattern. And me—well, I’ve been watching from the window for them this whole time.
“Have you ever been praying and all of sudden you wake up and you’re like ‘Oh I fell asleep, I was praying, sorry Jesus.’ A friend of mine said, ‘Don’t fret. That’s falling asleep on the lap of the Father.’ I’m like ‘Ha, yea, alright. Thanks for saying that.’”
“I was always going to do the thing. You didn’t have to hound me like that.”
“Sure.”
I’ve crowded my life with empty boxes by comparing myself to other people and holding on to the idea that maybe one day I will be able to “fill the box” of what they have that I don’t.