Source: 5 ingredient BBQ chicken
Source: pumpkin spice latte
My dear, hurting friend,
I want words right now.
I want words that will fix this; ones that will repair all that is so terribly broken here.
I want words that will turn back the clock and undo the damage and erase the heartache for you.
I want some words that will provide you answers or hope or relief or escape.
Right now I am straining so desperately, reaching so frantically for these words so that I can give them to you, but they aren’t coming and I know they won’t come.
This wound is too invasive, this fracture too severe, this day too dark for mere words.
They all fail.
They all feel worthless.
They don’t say anything remotely worthy of your suffering.
The only language that speaks eloquently into pain like this is made of tears and terrible sounds.
When the heart is so battered and the anguish so full and the senselessness so great, there…
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I may not know you, but I know where you are.
I’ve been in that place, the place where you’re standing this very second, or the one you may not have the strength to even stand in anymore.
It’s that spot that we all get stuck in if we live and love long enough; that suffocating, hopeless, heavy place called Not OK.
Sometimes we see it all coming from a long way off. Sometimes the ominous clouds gather far in the distance, and as much as we try to look away or run away or pray it away, it hits us anyway; cruel and relentless in its fury.
Sometimes it sneaks up on us in the soft brightness of simple joy; jumping out from behind the bushes, and in a vicious second; a phone call, an impact, a decision, we’re there.
The worst part about not being OK, is that once…
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