This post begins a little different this time. I want to take a moment and re-establish
just why I have this blog. Why do I write things that seem so personal and painful?
The truth is, many of you are hurting, too, and you need to know you are not crazy.
You need to know someone else has those same feelings and thoughts.
You need to know someone else struggles in the same areas as you do.
Sometimes my words seem to express that I am in a bottomless pit with no way out.
The mere fact I am able to share that with you should assure you that even on the days
the pit seems bottomless, I am NEVER without The Way out.
Knowing we are not alone, even in our miseries, brings us comfort.
Thus, I write.
Writing allows me to reach out to you, but it also allows me to vent things I find
hard to express otherwise.
So, you see, this blog really has a two-fold purpose.
Now, for today’s story:
Friday morning I literally drug myself to the gym. Nothing in me was willing to go.
Pure physical exhaustion enveloped me and I wasn’t sure but what the dreaded virus had
finally found its way to my house.
(No, I didn’t have the virus, so I didn’t spread it!)
But I so needed to go and I managed to make it there.
Afterwards, I made a stop at the grocery store for a few items I needed for the
supper I was cooking for my dad, my aunt, and one of my friends.
As I pulled into the parking space, I spotted an old high school friend across the way.
He had been one of my best friends way back then.
Isn’t it funny how we go so long without seeing people and then we see them
multiple times in a matter of a few weeks?
That’s how it was with him.
I had been at a dear friend’s house visiting after her mother’s death and
he and his wife were also there.
Now just a few weeks later, there he is again.
It was good to see him, but as you can imagine, the conversation
centered on the fact of my widowhood.
Once inside the store, I noticed a man whom I recognized as one of my
neighbors. I spoke to him and made some small talk.
Then he asked me how “WE” were doing.
I don’t know if I was more shocked by the fact he didn’t know Les had died
or by the fact that he lives that close to me yet didn’t know.
Of course, I had to explain that almost 2 1/2 years ago Les had died from cancer.
He was embarrassed yet seemed sympathetic.
Do you see where this day is headed?
Before I left the store, one of Les’ school mates, who works at the store,
spoke to me and asked how I was.
There was something about the way he asked that said he was feeling
sympathy for me. That was confirmed when he reached out and kindly touched my
arm while his eyes said he cared.
Now, some of you get this without any further explanation.
But for those of you who fortunately don’t understand,
let me explain.
Physical exhaustion easily absorbs emotional and spiritual trauma.
The three together will stop you dead in your tracks.
Then the enemy of your soul will pounce with all his barrels pointed directly for you.
The result isn’t pretty.
The enemy is real and he will stop at nothing to shut you down.
Staying busy only helps so much.
It is easy to go through the motions of necessary activities
and at the same time remain under enemy attack.
The enemy says you are alone, worthless, unloved and unlovable.
Some days it is easy to believe that.
I absolutely know none of those things are true,
yet that doesn’t stop the war inside my brain.
There is an aloneness that I can’t even explain.
That aloneness makes you feel unloved and unlovable.
It is an aloneness that can’t be filled with another busy activity
or even with a sweet lunch invitation.
(But don’t stop asking!!!)
It is a feeling that, quite honestly, just makes you want to be alone.
(Odd, I know. But that’s the truth!)
One day I will live “happily ever after” in heaven with all the saints
and my precious bride-groom, Jesus Christ.
But until then, I could sure use a fairy godmother to
make all my dreams come true!!!
And what are those dreams?
I’m not even sure.
But contentment where God has me would be very nice.
Perhaps you could whisper a prayer for me to find that contentment.
And perhaps you could reach out to a person you know is alone.
Everyone wants to feel needed and loved.
Lots of love, Sharon