Sitting at work like, "Was I even here in December. When did the sun come back? What just happened to 2019, was I even in it?"
And sorrow cascades in a hushed certainty.
Fading in and out of reality.
And joy evades, and hope carries away..
what is sure to come again on a better day.
Suicide doesn't end the pain, the mental war, the fear, or the sadness; it ends your breathing and your life and transfers your pain to someone else.
It is easy to trust him in the light and good times, but it requires courage to trust Him in the dark and unknown moments.
While energy fled
and answers elude. Others you sustained,
In the presence of you.
...You have no power here. Your threats no longer ring through my ears. Your sick tales from the war bring about prayer for your other victims across the sea, not fear of you. I am a grown woman of God, and you have nothing, no place, in my life. I am free....
To translate emotion
..Into words on a page
..To perfectly describe
..The colorful rage
There was a time I couldn’t face the days of trials with this same joy. A time that strength was hard to come by, and the weight of darkness would truly hold me down. God is aware of our struggles. He is also made perfect in our weakness.