I am unable to get out there and help at this time, but I pray. I believe in the power behind gentle words of hope and declaration. I know God above hears our prayers through Jesus Christ, and responds in ways we may not understand or see. Faith takes on new meaning in times of unknown and hope leads the way.
I believe in His mighty ways, but I wonder who I ticked off. These irrational thoughts lead back to my religious beginnings of doing more rather than being enough.
Time would heal my wounds, and courage would eventually merge the pieces of my soul. Before God was my everything, I was a floating vessel in search of solid ground.
The impact of addiction on a family is substantial.
"You run from Jesus, and the world attacks you mercilessly. You run toward Jesus, and the world attacks you, but you are loved through mercy, forgiveness, and grace. Either direction we go, the world is there, but one direction is peace, the other chaos. Choose wisely."
Forgiven and free.
Life happens to us all. I admit I pouted more than I should. As a non-crier, I cried a few times. I begged God to end this cycle, and we fought in the canyons of hopelessness. He won.
When I am bound by bipolar, I fear movement. I cast this unimaginable shadow over myself that darkens with each passing day. I proved this earlier this month when I looked out my office window and noticed the sun.
For fear of losing myself, I take time to get in my head and to lift my spirits through the strength of Jesus Christ. On my own, I fail to save myself. I know this, so I fight to reach in and surrender.
"God, if you have to take my son, I will let him go."
I will never forget the pain in those words. I was heartbroken and angry. How would God do this to us?