i’m lying (is it laying?) in bed, having recently purchased the most beautiful (and simple) journal i’ve ever had the fortune to own. itunes is on with the shuffle off; i’m playing the same songs i’ve been playing for the last two months. over and over they play. over and over, i hear. my heart hurts and i’m calling out to God for reprieve. i no longer trust my own ability to write, or even speak. if i could, i would hide beneath my bed for a month praying. i believe i would emerge from that exercise beautiful, full of God, and finally (how long have i been waiting for this?) at peace.
i can’t do that. i can’t hide. no, i can. but i won’t. i’ll rise from this bed in a few minutes, position my exhausted limbs to stand, and then i’ll move. though i believe my freedom would come from hiding and hashing out my various issues with the all-everything being I’ve name father, there is no time. the time for waiting has passed. (i wasted my waiting time holding my breath and praying for something different. praying to be someone different. my prayers went unanswered. i find i’m exceedingly grateful for that. i think i hope my prayers for reprieve might go unanswered too. i want nothing more than to survive this; to emerge on the other side of my current trials as something broken, but perhaps beautiful.)
again, this isn’t a post to say anything other than, “i think i might have something to say; if only i knew what it was, I would speak; waiting for perfection hasn’t worked and instead, i’ll speak my way into saying something; i no longer care about beauty (i don’t know if i would recognize it even if it came to me), i just want to say what i’ve been trying to say for the last 14 months.” these days, this has to be enough. i’m doing the best i can. that has to be enough. don’t you understand? sometimes, we have to move forward with striving for perfection even when (especially when) we see our attempts and failures play out side by side.
yes, this has to be enough, because it’s all i have.