19 05 2014

Every morning,
I wake up.
Groggy from the
little sleep of
the night before.

I slowly rise
and try to find the
shattered pieces
of my broken heart
dropped on the
floor the night before.

And then,
I zip up that
one-man-army.

It amazes me
how I get through the
day.
How I don’t think
anyone notices
or realizes,
the achey heart that
beats strong inside
of my chest.
The flood of silent
tears that come pouring
out as the sun sets,
and I am left to sit
alone in silence in my room.

It almost feels like
two different lives.
Two different worlds.
It is almost exhausting
having to choose to
continually cross between
the two.

But sometimes at
the end of the day.
I turn on worship.
It seems so beautiful
to me,
sitting alone on my bed
with the quiet hum of
the music in the background,
how I feel like Jesus
just kind of squeezes my
little heart….
He breaks it in such a gentle
way.
The flood of tears silently
come pouring out again,
but in those times
they are not going unseen.

He knows the deep
aches that tend to keep
me up at night.
He knows why I cry,
when even I have no words
to express the mangled
mess that seems to
constantly find its way
weaved all throughout my
very being.

The last nine months
has been a season
of some intense emotions.
Many many tears.
Many many sleepless nights.
Many questions and not
so many answers.
Many days feeling like
my heart is stuck in
the trenches.
Many weeks of feeling
like a hollow shell,
just barely existing.
Feeling completely
alone and empty.

And I have to keep
reminding myself,
‘It won’t always be
like this,
it won’t always be
like this. It can’t be….”

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