Leave You Alone

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Everyone needs someone beside them, shining like a lighthouse from the sea.

Lamplight shines through the window, filtering through the lace curtains and slicing the darkness. Emotions grip my chest, tightening and twisting, whispering thoughts and words, swirling and pushing, hating and demanding.

Here I am alone.

But then a text comes. Listen to Brother by Needtobreathe. 

Brother, let me be your shelter
Never leave you alone
I’ll be the one you call
When you’re low

The acoustics in my room are magical, the music in the darkness calm the tears that long to be released. Soothe the pain filled ache, and remind me that I am no longer alone.

There are so many brothers I have in my life. One’s giggle sounds like tee-hee-hee, her eyes laugh along with her voice, she understands my wackiness and she is always there to annoy. Another one listens to me, tells me I am not nothing. She “tucks” me in, reminding me I’m no longer alone. She whispers truth and helps me look to find the root problem. Another is a genius, brainstorming with me, loving me, and she is unafraid of the darkness in my mind. Another laughs with me for a whole hour, reminding me of God’s new mercies, of His love and forgiveness, and helping me embrace my awkwardness.

I know that in my weakness I am stronger
It’s your love that brings me home.

Left alone in my mind, struggling through the clouds, looking for land. Where was the home that I left? Where am I? Who am I?

A gentle hand, holding mine and keeping me grounded, reminding me that home isn’t far away. My beliefs are a reality. I’m not all alone.

Humans to keep me believing in the world around me. Humans to remind me that the world isn’t just virtual. There is a real reality. There is a home. There is a world outside my mind, and all I have to do is call. They’ll take me home.

Brother, let me be your fortress
When the night winds are driving on
Be the one to light the way
Bring you home.

The darkness is no longer full of thoughts and fears. Instead, my heart is soothed, my mind at rest. I’m not alone. My dog is at my feet, her head resting on my ankle. I know I’m not alone.

My sister walks into the room, and quietly turns on a book light, whispering that she loves me and telling me goodnight. I’m no longer alone.

Heart beat calms, peace washes over me, knowing that tomorrow when I awake, people will be beside me. They’ll tell me good morning, and ask me how I am. And they’re okay if I say I’m terrible. They’ll try to help, or they’ll just send me hugs.

I ain’t made for rivalry, I could never take the world on alone

I never was made for the drama, I don’t mind if you’re better, or prettier, or nicer. All I ask is that you won’t leave me alone. Let me need you, let me love you, let me care about your victories and your failures. Let me bring you coffee and tea, let me send you gifts for your birthdays.

Please let me love you.

And please, don’t leave me alone.

Brother let me be your shelter
(Brother, NEEDTOBREATHE)

Please, let me give back, let me know your dark places. Let me in to your heart. I know I can be cold and needy. I know I have problems, but let me be your shelter. I’ll love you until the sky falls and until the Lord comes again.

Just give me a chance.

I won’t leave you alone.

~~Amie~~

The Road Isn’t Easy

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(read last weeks post here.) 

The road isn’t easy, and my energy isn’t endless.

Two sad facts that pain me everyday. How do I remain on the path when my mind is so fogged, I can’t remember my own breakfast? How can I remain on the path when every time I sit down, I start drifting to sleep? How can I remain on the road, when all I feel is a heavy sense of defeat?

Does God still take worship from a tired mind? Does He still honor its plaintive cries?

Rocks crumble along the roadside, my step is slow, and my mind is weary. Somedays I can run along the path, keeping my thoughts straight, my mind on things above. But then it seems the fog rolls in, the numbness follows, and it takes all my will to keep from letting go and becoming hollow.

This week has been kinda tough on my mind. It’s reminded me that I’m not perfect, that the world is full of sin and sickness, and that I need to have patience with myself as well as with others. If I could have my way, I would be a super hero who could do everything all at once. But I’m just a girl, with a list of problems. Thank God He’s given me a list of grace to cover each of those problems. It’s just that I hate accepting grace and admitting I’m not perfect.

God calls us to do our best. (Colossians 3:23-24) Not to be perfect. Perfection is unachievable by the fallen human race. (Genesis 3:1-8, Romans 3:23-26) My best isn’t always what I want to do, but that’s where I can practice giving grace.

For me, it’s often times easier to give grace to others than to myself. My mind makes excuses for those around me, pulling at my sympathy and besides, how can I judge and know if they’re doing their best or not? But when it comes to myself, I’m truly my worse critic. In my mind, I can always do better, always be better, and if I fall from my schedule, or from my exercise routine, or if it takes me longer to draft a blog post than I think is acceptable, I’ll beat myself down with a mental metal rod.

I would feel horrible if any other human did this to themselves. But I believe I deserve it. I deserve to be beaten up by myself and others.

Which isn’t true.

And that’s why, this week, I spent a lot of time doing what I would consider “nothing.” I would wake at six, and instead of getting up like usually and working right away, I just let myself lie there and admire the sky. I let myself rest, because for once, I knew that I needed rest.

It isn’t shameful to be unable to do as much as someone else. The sooner you acknowledge you aren’t a superhero, the sooner you’ll be free to be the best hero you can be.

So take a breath.

It’s okay if you haven’t had a clear mind to pray, or if you needed to take a nap today. Keep heart, and remember. Someday we’ll be in a place where there’s no more tears, sickness, or brain fog. ❤

~~Amie~~

Dropping in

Yo.

So, like. I never pop in here like this, because I’ve become the most scheduled human being in the world who never does anything without scheduling it all three hundred days in advance. (not true, but ya know. Exaggeration adds some flavor to life.) Anyway, I’ve had a pretty major burn out, but I still need to throw out content, right?

right

I mean, no. XD But I want to instill the love of creating back into my life, so I’m hopping in to announce that I’m going to do a Q&A on my YouTube channel on Saturday, and I need to know what YOU want to know about me. XD

In other, less confusing words, I need questions.

Send ’em at me. I know this is really abrupt and out of place, but hey. Y’all hopefully check your WordPress Reader/inboxes enough to see it before it’s too late.

*looks at you seriously*

Time is of the essence.

~~Amie~~

P.S. Did I ever tell y’all about Wordcrafting Wednesday? If not, check out the newest video I have from today!

Which Road Will You Take?

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Is Christianity worth it any more?

I was the child who loved God. I loved being in His Word, new verses excited me, catechism class was my favorite part of the week. I loved to listen to hymns, to learn new ones, to be with other people who shared my faith. I grew up around extremely conservative Christians. People who wore long skirts, kept their hair long, hardly ever wore makeup.

As I aged, I was constantly critiqued by these people. I would never stand up to their standard. Or at least, the standard I placed on myself. I would accidentally say shocking things, things that didn’t fit in with their lifestyle. I was wicked to them, and I must reform myself in their ways or be alone.

And I hated being alone.

But they didn’t care about me. As I got older, things happened in my life, but they never asked how I was doing. They would just critique other people who were “wickeder” then us. People didn’t mind if I came to church and hid in a corner, as long as I just came to church. People didn’t care if I stopped enjoying Scripture, as long as I knew the key passages and could flip through a Bible.

So I began to hate Christianity, because no one cared about my heart. No one cared if I didn’t believe God could really love me. I mean, all they talked about was God’s wrath anyway. Yes, I’m going to hell, why not go to hell in a hand basket?

I started wearing pants. Because who would stop me? I cut my hair. To prove that good girls can have short hair. I dyed my hair. To prove to my dad that hair dying wasn’t against the Bible. I wore makeup. To prove to myself that I could be the same person inside with a modified face. I changed myself. Because I wanted to prove to people that I could still know everything that was important to them in my head, but I didn’t care enough to follow their stupid rules any longer.

I no longer wanted to read God’s Word. I was angry at Him. Angry at the world. Angry at the people who served Him.

They said they did all this in Christ’s name, and yet they left me again. No one asks how I’m doing. No one cares enough to drag the tears out of me. They were thoughtful enough to appease their own consciousness, sending me letter that said they cared. But they never followed up.

So I turned to the world. Dear Evan Hansen kept me alive. If I just hung on, I would be found. There’s a reason to be alive, someday I would have a future. Someday someone would care.

I drifted through songs, and one day, I ended up listening to “The Devil Came Down To Georgia” on repeat for a whole day. So much, that the Devil came down to Georgia, and entered my dream.

Walking down a golden brick road, holding my violin in one hand and my dreams in the other, I stood at a crossroads. One went up a mountain, narrow, steep and rocky. The other road was flat, it went towards the beach, where the waves whispered happily, and people swam. 

And there I stood, clutching my violin and my dreams, looking down two different roads. My mind told me to go to the mountains, but my heart longed for the sea. 

“Hard choice, isn’t it?” A voice asked from behind me, and I turned to see the devil himself, the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Tall, ripped, with hair the color of midnight, he smiled a toothpaste commercial smile in my direction. “Don’t worry, you’ve already picked.” He pulled out a golden violin and began to play, dancing in circles around me, pulling me towards the beach. “You decided long ago, dear. It’s just taken you this long to notice. The music that swells from your soul is mine. The tears that flow from your heart, the words that you write, the thoughts you think are all mine.” 

I struggled and strained because in my heart I knew he was right. I had strayed, I had been doing things for him instead of for the One I loved. He was strong, he held me without touching my skin, held me with his ruby eyes and his bewitching smile. I was unable to break his charm.

“Let her go, Lucifer, she’s not your prey.” The voice, like a cymbal, stopped the violin’s play. On the other road stood a large man, close to seven feet tall, dressed in white clothes that looked strangely like Star Wars apparel. “She’s been bought, paid for, and redeemed. She belongs to the King.”

If the white hand hadn’t caught my arm, I would have fallen. The Devil’s shrieks filled the air as the man pulled me back to my feet. “You’re safe, but the choice is still yours. Follow the faith of your fathers, or fall.”

“Please, I want to go with you. I swear, I don’t want to go with him, I don’t want the golden violin or all the fame. Please, let me come with you.”

And with a slight smile, the man turned. “Then follow me.”

I woke in a cold sweat, swearing that I would never listen to that kind of music again. Dreams are weird things, aren’t they? But this one started a small flame that has been growing inside of me.

Most of my friends before never cared about Scripture. They didn’t care what I thought about theology. They didn’t care to talk about Jesus, they weren’t interested in anything but stupid, stupid Christian platitudes, or following a list of what’s wicked and what’s not. But I’m not interested in that.

I want to love God. I don’t want to be a people pleaser, I want to be a Jesus pleaser. I want to be on fire for Him. I’ll gladly trade the golden violin and the fame to know I’m following him. I would gladly give the world for a relationship with my King. Because I am His.

Fame will never fulfill me, a golden violin would never explain me. Christianity is worth it to me. Not the kind where you claim Christ but never search Him, never care to face the lions of the world. Never care to stand like Joseph and place your full trust in Him. But the kind where you stand like Daniel, where you preach like Peter, where you trust like George Müller, where you are in essence . . . a Jesus freak.

Because I’d rather be a Jesus freak than one of the crowd. Maybe the cost is great, but in the end, the gain is beyond comparison.

Which road will you take?

~~Amie~~

I’m Not Aiming for Nationals

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I’m not aiming for Nationals.

Some of you might have heard of the National Bible Bee. If you haven’t, it’s basically a competition where you memorize Scripture on a certain topic, and it’s kinda like a spelling bee in a very different way. Last year was the first year I did it, and I’m doing it again this year.

Last year, my biggest dream was to get to nationals. When that dream didn’t happen, I promised myself that this year I would work as hard as possible and get there. And get as far as was humanly possible.

If you had told me a year ago that I would not be doing my absolute best in the Bible Bee, if you had told me that I would be okay with not taking the test at the end, I would have told you that you were crazy.

Amie? Not doing her best? Amie, not putting in 110%? Amie, not killing herself to win a competition? Is she still Amie?

My whole life, I’ve been the most competitive, I’ve been the obsessive, workaholic, child who has ten projects all at once. The thought that one day I would decided to let a competition slide without throwing heart and soul into it is out of character for me.

But I’ve slowly been learning that giving 110% of your energy to ten different things gives you less reward than giving 35% of your energy to three important things.

And I’ve just lost my whole audience. 😂

Trying to give all of your energy and attention to everything is the quickest way to burn yourself out, and the best way to do a terrible job at everything. In life, we need to put all and everything into the most important parts. Of course, at times it can seem like everything is important, and that’s when having set goals helps us weed down the important things in life.

Memorizing God’s Word is so important to me. But winning a competition to prove that I’ve stored God’s Word into my heart? Not as important. Would I still love to compete and win? Absolutely.

But through prayer and just evaluating my end goals in life, spending 6+ months preparing and devoting most of my energy to this competition isn’t what I need to do with my time or life. So is that a dream? Yes. Is that a goal? No.

Dreams and goals can look very similar, but in reality, they’re very different. Two dreams of mine are winning the National Bible Bee and playing a certain character in an audio drama. Are they goals? Nope. Are they going to happen? Nope. What are my goals? Some of them are building this blog, publishing books, helping people and ministering to them. Am I working towards this? Yes. Is it going to happen? Lord willing, yes.

Goals are more concrete. They’re the things you should be putting all your time and effort into. They’re more solid, they’re things that you can see yourself doing for the rest of your life, doing despite setbacks, pain, and failure. If you simply have random dreams in your head, you most likely will never achieve them.

One of my favorite books is Ishmael by E.D.E.N. Southworth. In this novel, Ishmael is born illegitimately, and spends his childhood shunned by his neighbors and hated by his aunt. That sounds pretty bad, huh? But that didn’t set Ishmael back. He didn’t just pursue whimsical dreams (Oh, maybe someday I’ll be loved. Oh, maybe someday I’ll do something better than starve.) Nope! Ishmael had a clear goal, and he pursued the pathway to reach his goals, despite setbacks, personal emotions, injuries, and at times, discouragement.

Set your goals, and strive for them.

Perhaps you’ll reach your dreams while you do that.

~~Amie~~

The Importance of Physical, Mental, and Emotional Health in Art

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If you have been following my blog for over a year, you know that I’ve had a bit of a struggle with my mental health. For months I lived in a haze of depression, and today I still have to battle it daily, along with the impulse to destroy myself due to anxiety.

A lot of my mental health issues were linked with physical health, and so today, I thought it was time to talk about the importance of physical, mental, and emotional health in art. Some of you might have just balked. Physical health? How does that affect art? And emotional health? Don’t we need emotions to impact people in art?

We’ll be taking a quick look at each of the different categories during the post, and what I’ve found to be helpful.

Physical Health

The clock showed that it was one o’clock. Another night of only sleeping five hours. Another night when my brain kept me awake past the time most humans should be awake.

Insomnia has been one of my greatest enemies. It has hindered my artistic pursuits, and my regular day – to – day life. One night I decided that I had had enough. I was going to figure out how to fix this problem.

Physical health affects more than we tend to realize. The food we eat, the amount of activity we indulge in, and the amount of water we drink really does matter when it comes to art.

Art is a type of work that uses primarily your brain, and if you don’t have a keen and healthy brain . . . well, your job is going to be a lot harder. Just as athletes must train, eat healthy, and drink lots of water, I’d like to argue that artists need to do the same.

Personally, to help my insomnia and brain fog, I’ve found that avoiding certain foods my body is sensitive to was the first step. I try to eat high – fat, high – protein meals, as well as a lot of vegetables and fruit. Water is also my best friend. Not only does it (along with avoiding chapsticks I’m allergic to [yes, I have a lot of allergies]) make my lips hydrated and full, it also helps me feel better. XD (Such a lame ending, goodness.)

How do I take care of myself physically? Glad you asked. XD Besides my food, I like to wake up a 6, in order to make time for some “me” time and exercise. Directly at 7 (am. Yes, it’s early), I’ll go on a walk with my dog, and if I get back soon enough, I’ll do a ten minute exercise. I also exercise around 6 or 7 in the evening, in order to tire myself out for bed. If I’m doing a lot of computer work throughout the day (writing, anyone?), I’ll take a break every 20 – 30 minutes and do as many pushups as I can.

I tend to follow the diet that is shown on this YouTube channel

This is my favorite channel for exercise.

Mental Health

I feel like I could also encompass “spiritual” health in this category. (Which is just as important as all of the other things!) Mental health is one of the biggest things in art. If you don’t have the motivation to get out of bed, how are you going to get up and create some art? If you aren’t happy, how can you make people smile?

Eventually the inner turmoil will come out. Perhaps art is your therapy, and if it is, no judgement. I’ve found, however, in my own art journey that it’s so important to at least be aware of your mental and spiritual health as you create. If you’re not, then you’re in danger of a major burnout.

For my mental health, I religiously take A LOT of vitamin C. I know, a strange thing to take for mental health, right? But I’ve found that it helps my brain fog, it helps my joint pain, and it helps my fatigue and depression. My mom can even notice a difference with my outward personality. Now, I’m not a doctor, so I can’t guarantee this to work for everyone, but it’s worth a shot, right?

I haven’t been able to find anything yet that has helped my anxiety. If any of you have a natural suggestion to help me, drop it in the comments. I need help to keep me from tearing off my skin and pacing the house. 🙈

For my mental and spiritual health, I wake up at 6 every morning, unless I’m sick or was sick recently. I light a candle (because I love candles, and it makes me look forward to getting out of bed. 😉 ) and make myself a cup of tea before recording what happened the day before, writing down goals for the day, and reading my Bible and writing about what God is teaching me. I also take time around 5:30 to read more out of my Bible and work on memory verses. If I’m have a particularly hard day, or stressing about something in particular, I will take time to just write a list of either blessings, or reasons I’m stressed, and figure out how to make the day better.

Vitamin C I take: Lypo-Spheric packet and tablets.

Emotional Health

Doesn’t this fit with the one before it?

Hmm. I think all of them intertwine, but I want to take a moment to just look at emotional health. Some days I can have amazing mental and physical health, but I’m just sad. Or I’m just bleh emotionally. Emotional exhaustion is just as much a thing as mental and physical exhaustion.

Emotions are one of the biggest part of art. We are trying to convey our emotions to others, we are trying to play with emotions of those who see/read/hear our art, and so our emotional health needs to be somewhat stable.

For my emotional health, I try to keep myself scheduled, and take time to do things that make me happy. Some of the things I do that make me happy is drink coffee, burn candles, wear outfits that make me feel beautiful, and style my hair. As well as listening to my favorite music.

Everyone has different things that make them happy, and it’s okay to do some extra things if it gives you a little bit of happiness. When I was younger, I told myself that I should just work, work, work, and ignore the little things that I can do to improve the quality of each day. There’s no need to do that. In moderation, a little bit of extra sparkle can make your day much better.

How is your physical, mental and emotional health? What are some things you do to improve those three things? Do you enjoy being scheduled?

~~Amie~~

 

I Want to Know

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God, who am I?

You are my child. (John 1:12 ,Galatians 3:26)

What do you want me to do?

Know me and make me known. (Jeremiah 24:7, 2 Peter 3:18, James 4:8)

How can I do that with my blog? All the blogging experts talk about a niche, finding your message, and sharing it. How can I do that? What is my message?

Know me and make me known.

Well, that certainly helped me. Do you mean by having a lifestyle blog, or a Christian living blog, or a deep thoughts blog like I already have? Do you mean by just joking around and bring light into people’s lives? Do I even make people think?

Know me and make me known.

And that is super helpful. I just want to know what to do with my blog. I need to have answers here.

Know me and make me known.

That’s super helpful, God. You’ve said that before. I do know and  will know You better and I’m trying to make you known. But there are so many different ways to do that. Everyone has a different calling to share the message of Christ crucified, resurrected, and sitting at the right hand of God. What is mine?


What is mine?

The phrase was left floating in my head until yesterday, when I read two different things. In a book, the main character struggles with her calling, and another character points out that maybe we don’t have one specific calling or purpose in life. At least, not in the way the normal Evangelical Christian has been taught to think about callings.

Our purpose is in the greatest commandment, which is to love God with all our heart, all our mind, and all our soul. (Matthew 22:37) That in turn should shape everything else we say, think or do. (Of course it won’t, because we’re sinners, but we can still strive. Which is what this book was about.)

The second thing I read was an article on a writing community I’m a part of. The article writer (Rebecca Davis) stated that our message will be shaped organically by God as we live life.

Now, I’ve lived through some things, even though I’m still so young, but I hate talking about them. Hating reliving the memories I’ve purposefully buried, the ones that shape my nightmares, my ambitions, and my past. So during an interview, I asked her about sharing messages that cause you pain.

And her answer was intriguing. God grants us the gift of numbness for a time, when we’re going through the pain. And when we’re given the gift of numbness, the best thing to do is find someone who can help us and makes sure we’re safe.

But after awhile, we awake from the numbness to sharp pain. And when the sharp pain comes, it’s hard to think of anything besides that. Besides what’s been hurt, what’s been broken, what’s been lost.

At the end of the day, however, it’s not your pain that’ll define you and stay forever. It’s the lessons you learn during the pain. At times, you might be called to share your pain while you walk through it. (I’ve done some of that!) Other times, however, you may never share your pain, you may never let that be apart of the message, but you still have the lessons that bleed over into your other messages.


God, I want to know what’s next. I want to know what to do.

*silence*

Okay, well, I’ll just —

“When you don’t know what to do, just do the thing in front of you.”

Huh. Then I guess I’ll write a blog post.

~~Amie~~

Doesn’t End Like That

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You never got the chance to know me
Packed it up and crossed the state
You left behind more than memories
Now when I sleep I’m only dreaming of your face
You never got the chance to hold me
I learned to love your selfish way
I still believe in you

So wrapped up in your selfish ways, taking and taking, leaving me spinning round and round, unable to touch the ground. Whenever I treated you better than you could understand, you’d leave me wondering how kindness could hurt you.

You said you were my friend, holding out your hand to help me off the ground, offering to dry the tears that streamed from my shattered heart. And yet, after you bandaged the wounded organ, you shattered it with it into a hundred parts, leaving me bleeding alone.

How did I love your selfish way? Why do I still believe in your flawed nature? Why do I see all the good things you could be if you just let the light shine through your firm barricades?

And in this burning room
I’ll suffer through the pain

Left gasoline on my walls before you peaced out, telling me it was my problem that I was the way I am. Lit a match and threw it behind you, burning my soul inside the metal walls I built for my own protection. You say I’m not worth attention, so I’ll sit alone and suffer through my emotions.

You told me I was weak to feel pain, fear, and pitiful to let the tears free. I should be the bouncy, happy girl I used to be before. Years ago when I first met you?

Darling, listen. Time wears away the childlike joy you felt at ten. It takes time to find the joy given by the Spirit within. It takes time to find out who you are, despite the pain that’s shaped your life.

Oh no, got me low, how you gonna leave like that?
Oh no, got me low, you’re gone and I want you back.
Oh no, down so low, feeling like I’m under attack.
Oh no, where’d you go? You’re gone and I want you.

Instagram posts have pulled at my defense, your comments are destroying my stern vision. How are you gonna ghost me like that? Last year we were together and talked about forever, being friends until we’re both old and toothless, laughing about our teenage stupidity.

Now I’m alone, sitting on the floor, wondering if I’ll feel the same at fifty. How are you going to leave like that? If you came back, would I let you in?

I never wanted you to change
Call me up and I’ll be running
Loose my breath calling out your name
(Leave Like That, SYML)

I sent texts, DMs, and letters. Hoping you’d forgive my stupid blunder. But if my blunder was being a good friend, would I really want you to forgive me for caring? Would I really want you to forgive me for sharing my love, my time?

Were you really the people I needed? Or were you only taking up the place of people who love and care about the real me, not the me they’ve created in their heads. Maybe the best thing for both you and me was for us to part.

So I could find me. So I could be me.

Without feeling guilty for not being what you want me to be.

And now I can smile and sing the song that I can only sing while reaching for the stars. I now have people behind me who love me, despite what I can be or will be. They smile and laugh with me over my stupidity, understand when I tell them seriously about my worries, and hug me when the darkness in my mind is louder than all of reality.

People who care.

Even when I pretend that I don’t need them.

Because I do. We all do. We need people who love us, we need people to support us, we need people to push us, and we need people who understand us.

God’s been so good to give me people who do all of those things. And to them, I’ll forever be grateful. ❤

~~Amie~~

I See the Sun

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I see the sun through the evening shower

I know the sun in spite of this midnight hour

Each day it’s there, warming my heart

Even though it’s so hard to see in the dark.

I have been telling myself I won’t let myself grieve. I won’t mourn, I’ll be fine. Just keep moving, looking to the next day.

But last week was one of those weeks that just called for a lot of sorrow, mixed in with a strange type of joy.

Last week I was supposed to be seeing my friends. Hugging them, laughing with them. I was supposed to stand next to one of my favorite people as she pledged her life to her love.

But I sat in my kitchen instead, watching a screen.

There are so many things we’re all missing out on because we’re trying to stay safe. We’re trying to show Christlike love, by putting other’s health and safety before our own. And I’m so happy that I get to do that, that I get to stay home, and that I’m able to keep myself alive for years in the future.

But it’s also okay to be sad.

To grieve.

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So many lives lost. So many memories not happening. So many people we miss. So many hugs we’ve lost. So many moments of laughter that we’re not having.

It’s okay to curl up on your bed and take a deep breath, to let the tears free. It’s okay to hurt, to wonder why. It’s okay.

But always remember that there is a sunshine behind the clouds, and a tomorrow after today. Maybe not this year, maybe not now. Maybe it’ll never be like you thought it should, but you will have something good in the future. Maybe I won’t be hugging my friends this year, not laughing with them, or rooming with them at a writing conference.

But next year.

Next time.

Tomorrow.

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It’s still empty and full of possibility, full of hugs, full of companionship, and worth waiting for, worth going through pain today.

As someone once said, “A moment of pain is worth a lifetime of glory.”

A year of loneliness is worth a lifetime of health and companionship. And for that reason, I’m going to stay home, wishing to be with my favorite people. For that reason, I’ll be Skyping instead of hugging. And for that reason, I’ll be letting myself cry.

Tomorrow still has sunshine,

~~Amie~~