One can’t hide from God and cry into a pillow, whispering things like save me, and not have some faith that the One she hides from is the very One who will, indeed, hear and see and save.
But I’ve tried.
I’ve lived the last year of my life taking one little blue pill after another, trying desperately to escape.
I’ve wanted to escape from everything and everyone and every single word I thought God was speaking to me in the midst of my circumstances.
I’ve crawled between my sheets nearly every night for a year, just waiting for the little blue pill to work so that I could escape myself before waking to my mirror all over again.
And I’ve slept myself into an exhausting state of being numb.
That makes no sense, I know.
But it’s true.
A year of hurt and disappointment and loss have left me with calloused skin. I’ve sat in groups with nothing to say. I’ve sat with one and lost my focus, forcing myself not to flee. Once intentional movements toward others have become accidental conversations with not one shred of myself put on the table.
I’ve laid brick around my broken heart and laid a little blue pill on my tongue to help me escape the God I once found in the late night hours of the day.
I’ve exhausted myself with trying to hide out, to escape the reality of God’s work in my mess, and last week I realized I had become numb.
And I don’t want to live numb.
I want to live fully alive.
It’s been 7 days and 7 long nights since I last swallowed that little blue pill.
And for 7 days, I’ve been fully awake for nearly every hour of those 7 days.
I’ve spent all of my nighttime hours, staring at the ceiling, pleading with the devil to leave me alone.
I’ve watched the minutes tick by and I’ve done mental math to figure out how many hours I have until the alarm blares into the quiet of the morning.
I’ve ripped the sheets from my side of the bed and walked around in the dark trying to will myself to sleep.
I’ve done late night business with God with a much clearer head and I have given Him all the things that I have been trying so hard to escape.
And y’all I am so tired tonight.
So. Very. Tired.
But I’m not quite as numb as I was last week and that’s a good thing.
That’s a really good thing.