I feel as though I’ve jumped off the pedestal with the noose around my neck only to find that I’m still alive but unable to breathe, and second guessing what I had wanted. So I dangle and kick, gasping for breath, grasping for the beams around me, something – anything – to convince me to pull myself up for air. Pain has become part of my existence. I cannot function except in crisis, and yet there is the place I shine. Am I cursed to live life from crisis to crisis? Am I the one that brings these crises about, or is God molding me? Well that much I know: He is. But is it part of His plan, or is it just His Grace abounding more where my sin has abounded? This fear of self-delusion haunts me; but from what am I deluding myself? So shine I do in the pain, wishing the pain would stop.
After I awaken from these random thoughts, I wonder if they are just things that my mind created in its oxygen-deprived state as a way to protect myself. Yet here I am dangling and unable to breathe except with the greatest of efforts. My field of vision narrows, and I think of what I’ve lost, of who I could have been, who I could be, who I am, who I could have been with, who I will be with, who I will not be with. The dream sets in and I’m momentarily granted respite from the angst, and I believe against reality that what I was meant to be, what I was meant to have, who I was meant to have, are all here with me. Another breath enters me and I realize that this is not the case. Or perhaps it is my lot; this pain. Just a lesson for others. But if my calling is to be an offering for others, is my life worth less than theirs? Can I have happiness without pain? Can those two things really be separated?
So much in me is being wasted. I just want to breathe.
Mikey's Musings 