Journey

I believed

I fiercely depended on

I knew

I had confidence in

I carried severe hope in

I intimately conversed with

HIM.

My faith was strong.

It really is that simple.

I believed nothing could rock my faith, let alone shatter it.

I was wrong.

Crushing words, rejection, devastation

Things that smother life

Wither and decay hope

They came at me...hard.

I became tired and discouraged. I was rocked to my core.

I lost my north, was left spinning and confused in my heart.

How does faith become cracked?

I am blindsided by these feelings.

This is not a choice. I found myself here. I didn't walk here. I didn't do this to myself any more than a person with disease brings illness upon themselves.

I truly don't know what happened to my heart.

I feel angry, misunderstood, judged that I did something wrong. But just as we might find ourselves sitting next to the hospice bed of a person who inhabits a place in our heart, someone who believed, depended, hoped, prayed they would be healed, we don't always choose our journey. Are they weaker than the one who was healed? Did they stray "too far" this time? Do we pity them because they just couldn't find their strength to heal? I cringe at that belief.

The truth about me is, I just can't find my strength. I can't find my God, my hope.

But there is a faint light. I can feel it at times. This is not in vain. I'm not lost. My God is right here, and He will bring me through

Stronger because of my weakness

Understanding more because I was misunderstood.

I will have hope again.

I will feel faith like I once did.

And who knows, maybe this journey, this time of my life, I've been charging toward His throne all along, not lost but found.

More pieces of my heart glued together to make a more beautiful me...