..take this world, and give me Jesus..
They may not make it out alive. I already found my daughter unresponsive in a suicide attempt, so I am numb to the scenario, yet in fear. As a parent, you never want to accept your child might die, but I acknowledge this painful truth.
Today, I admit my loss, and it's not you, it is me. My identify is gone, and my will to live is slowly dwindling to nothing. I moved from the joy of living to hate of breathing.
The most powerful words in existence are choice and choose. These two words lend to every triumph and trial we face.
(It is #77) What the hell am I doing? I rarely cuss. I hate it, to be honest. If it leaves my mouth, my patience is fried. I may be there today. I watched a movie early this morning. A sappy love film. "How long have you been married? Do you really even know who …
The athlete, the competitor, flaunter, tease, academic, worker, they all found time to be present. In experiencing life with all these spirits, I learned a great deal about compassion, pain, and cries from within. What others didn't see, I saw magnified.
The unknown lies as bait, to ensnare in distrust or divide by hate. Left to it's devices, we run cold. Numb to today because of possibilities in tomorrow.
While something stirs within, a roar of silence overcomes the whisper of hope. This is it. The hand is dealt, the time has come, you lose.
Should the responsibility of maintaining be solely on one person?
I feel used and abused after all these years. There is no appreciation shown, value placed, or relief sent my way.