When you wake up in the middle of the night and you suddenly find yourself unable to think of someone you can run to,
You try to put your confusion into words but end up with unfinished sentences. What is the word for this?
You imagine being rescued by a stranger because your friends are too far. They are all within an electronic message away but your heart is the one far from them.
You know you’ve messed up. Who plans to mess up? And who cares how many people are wide awake right now, minutes before 3am, hoping some peaceful sleep would bring true rest. But there’s only a darkened room with no shadows. Empty.
The problem is that there’s no problem except that you can’t take it anymore but everybody else can. That makes you the psycho in the story…
And you tried to be normal like the rest, living seamless routine, tried to cut through the seams because it’s way too straight, but then you end up cutting yourself. There’s no customization. Either you stay IN, or go OUT of prison. If you could figure out which side of the wall it is, which way through the door is out,
And how, to face a world tomorrow, with tears streaming down your cheeks,
How, to pray with someone without falling apart, without being pretentious – something unacceptable when praying, without laying the burden on someone who does not deserve to carry it…
Even Jesus who carried, carries, it
Even when it doesn’t feel like it
Even when it feels like the world was meant to crush an unsuspecting soul this night, not suddenly, but skillfully, permitedly’, because it would not give up on lives more crushed, more depraved, more gasping for air, more trapped, more grieved, more just more worse, from any angle you would look at it.
I am not holding on because things will get better for me. I am holding on with hopes that your life will get better for you even as I endure mine by feeding on recycled tears, mingling with fresh ones.
You are precious, too precious too keep me asleep in the wee hours of the morning.
If this is not love, I don’t know what it is.
If this is not right, then I would gladly be wrong. I would get out.
But as long as I can endure, I will endure for you. Even though I’m often afraid to think that you have no idea how painfully and violently your life is being wrestled for.