It Is (Not) Well
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 ...