Safe

I have never in my life been this kind of alone.

It's this aching, sharp kind of feeling that won't let me breathe.

I walk around trying to numb it; trying to drown out the nagging, desolate shitstorm.

It just keeps growing.

I have moments of almost stepping over it, but I never conquer it.

I've spent more than my fair share of time in this kind of desert. I've stood in this same dusty spot before.

I've written struggle and encounter in the dirt more times than I can count.

My scribbles look like madness.

But they are hope. Expectation that something will change, someone will come for me.

Rescue is inevitable.

I'm just so damn tired of liminal space.

I get it. I married this. I embraced it and stepped right in, because what other way was there?

But, when...

And why.

I don't care that I'm desperate. I don't care that I should be something stronger, or wiser, or more positive.

I don't care that people still don't approve, or understand.

I don't care that there is a spinning, trampled on earth still firm beneath my feet.

I. don't. care.

I just want to rest. I want to take a full breath. I want to look this bitch in the eye and finally step past her.

Here's what I know...

Grace is in my children. They are overflowing, newly blossomed kind of life. They laugh and the desert recedes a little. I have never touched on anything as sacred as the gift of my children. Ever.

I am surrounded, literally, by people I love. I'm not without love.

I open my Bible and something happens. I am momentarily stilled and this is what sustains me.

This enormously long and crushing desert will not leave me lifeless. It won't sap my soul. It won't strip me bare.

I know this. I KNOW it.

I just hate the meantime. I am tired of the resetting of my bones. I'm so, so ready to find a safe place. For once, I want to feel safe.

*November 2012