feet on the ground.

I walked away from the words for a little. away from the wrestle, from the fight, away from the tangled and messy and hard and beautiful thing that is scraping your soul raw and laying it out in lines.

away from the work of working through, of writing through. of chasing wild, of hunting healing, of trying to puzzle it out and put it together. I needed space, or maybe I didn’t, maybe I shouldn’t have stopped, but it’s done now.

and I find myself not sure how to do this because the heart-on-page thing is a habit that’s easy to get out of and it feels a little awkward coming back. still like coming home, but someone painted the walls while I was gone and I didn’t know.

I don’t really know if I have anything to say. it seems all I have lately is empty hands and slivers of thoughts.

(and some hopes and dreams tucked in there too, I suppose, though I’m not really sure what they are. but I’m working on that one.)

because honestly, it’s hard. things are hard. this whole doing life with people thing? it’s hard. it’s way hard. this whole doing life thing, in general? it’s hard. I am unsure and I am asking questions and thinking things through. and I have doubts and I have hurt places and I have things I wish I could change and things that I am slowly making peace with. and God has been rather silent lately, or maybe I haven’t been listening, but either way something is shifting.

some nights, I want to quit. a lot of nights, honestly. I want to get away. I want to run. I want to get in my car and drive, drive till I find a new town and pick a new name and make a new life.

but I’m a fool if I think that I won’t bring my same broken self to my new life.

and I’ve got people who love me, broken bits and all.

so I’m staying. and I’m asking the questions, and I’m wrestling. I’m dreaming and I’m hoping. I’m trying to fit sentences together again and I’m asking God if He’s still there, if He would show up for me. and yes, I’m still crying on the floor sometimes. but I’m fighting. I’m fighting for myself and who I want to be. some day, it’s a fight just to get out of bed.

but I will continue to plant my feet on the ground and fight.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “feet on the ground.

  1. It is hard. So hard. The fight is worth it, though. Some days, many days, it doesn’t seem that way. But, it is. Your words are real, and powerful, and touching people. Prayers for you and for all of us who have to fight.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s