Courage, Dear Heart

​ It is not well with my soul. Not this morning. This morning, my soul is so tired. My soul is lost and exhausted and an empty well. Perhaps my Father has a well that does not run dry, but the water in mine  is gone.  Evaporated.  Dissipated without a care of leaving my spirit to die.  “The waves and wind still know His name.” But does He remember mine? Does He remember  me?   Or am I left pounding on Heaven’s door, screaming until my voice runs out? How am I worth anything when I bring nothing to the table? In a Nation where overworking is the ideal, the proof of a life well-lived, then is my life even worth living?  I want to work, to volunteer, to be a good friend. I want to be a sister who’s actually there for her siblings instead of hanging on by a thread. I want to be a wife who can provide something besides emotional support. Because what am I worth in a society where emotional support is a triviality?  “My God, my God, why have you ...

If the name of my blog isn’t an indication, The Chronicles of Narnia has a special place in my heart. I feel such a connection to the Spirit in these stories, even if they are fairytales for children. I’ve rarely needed that connection more than I have in these last two months. My illness continues to worsen, and so much remains unknown. The specialists I have seen yank me around with varying answers; and as grateful as I am for the abnormal test results, remaining positive feels impossible. I have done my best to stay hopeful, but laying in bed for over 14 hours with such severe vertigo that I am bent over a trashcan, unable to see, hearing near gone, violent ringing in my head that exacerbates the pain of the migraines accompanying my issues, being forced to rely on others to help me to the bathroom because I can’t walk and my eyes aren’t working as they should…hopelessness doesn’t feel strong enough of a word. I don’t know how to live like this forever. And I am terrified that this...

But what if it is? In the last two weeks as I’ve dealt with new health issues, including vestibular migraines that cause days of nonstop, unmanageable vertigo, vomiting, and pain at a time, I’ve felt my weakness more than ever.  The tears burn behind my eyes, but I know if I sob as I want, it’ll only cause more damage. I desperately crave the distractions of yoga, walks, and baking, yet I know they’ll do the same. I beg God to regift me the ability to walk without stumbling, my full hearing, and my balance, with no change.  If only the people who believe I am strong could see my hopelessness when none of my wishes come true, and when my prayers go unanswered. (Inhale) God is with me // (Exhale) I will not be afraid.  But what if I am?  (Inhale) The Lord is my Shepherd // (Exhale) I have all that I need. But what if I don’t?  (Inhale) God is faithful // (Exhale) This time will be no different.  But what if it is?  Yet I sit here this morning, writing, ...

Scripture says that Jesus can empathize with us in everything, because He suffered as we suffered - and I never feel it more than I do on Easter weekend . The betrayal He experienced at the hand of one of His closest friends, the physical, social, and emotional pain He endured on the Cross and road to Calvary, the denial coming from Him inmost circle, and the lack of His Father in His most needed time…I’m sure it comes off a bit sacrilegious, but I never feel closer to Jesus than I do during these three days. Over a decade ago, I sat at a table in a Christian institution that preached Godly values as they read off the verdict that labeled my abuser as innocent. As they, without saying it, labeled me as the liar , the guilty party.  Jesus looked down, watching as my best friends testified against me, picking the side of my abuser. My best friends, who’d once told me they believed me, and that they had been on my side.  Like Judas, handpicked as His disciple, sold Him out to t...

If you had rescued my soul from this harsh world, but had not provided answers for my illnesses,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had provided answers for my illnesses, but had not been with me in the midst of the abuse,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had been with me in the midst of the abuse, but had not provided a way out,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had provided a way out, but had not been within my spirit when dad died,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had been within my spirit when dad died, but had not given me a husband who treats me tenderly,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had given me a husband who treats me tenderly, but had not given us the perfect Church,  Dayenu. It would have been enough for me.  If you had given us the perfect Church, but had not seen us through dozens of impossible financial situations,  Daye...

A womb that will always be empty. A nest forever free of little hens.  I thought I was okay. I am okay, right?  Since having to make the decision, I’ve told myself so many things to make myself forget how painful this might be. I push, push, pushed it down, until I could pretend that it didn’t exist - the agony of knowing my womb will never grow a child full of both Ethan and I. I’d never know whose laugh that child would get, whose eyes, whose sense of humor. Whether he would have a strong personality like me or a gentle personality like Ethan. Whether she’d need braces, or get lucky like I did. Whether he’d be a ‘sports’ kid, or an ‘academic’ kid.  No matter the option, it wasn’t choice. I knew in my heart that regardless of so many mothering possibilities out there, my physical body is incapable of caring for a child from womb through adulthood.  I told myself it doesn’t matter, because I’d have been a shit mom anyways. I’d have little patience, I wouldn’t be lov...