I won't run

I often times wonder if I create drama or if drama is the result of my lack of boundaries combined with my genuine attempts to please the people I love. I keep waiting for the day when life will feel ordinary. I keep waiting for the moment when I won't feel like I am starting over and turning a crisis into a well rounded manageable life. I so desperately want to be in any other place than I am so I start down a new road, hoping it will lead to the peace, joy, or normalcy I long for. However what happens more often is that I end up stuck in a situation I am not ready or equipped to handle. I feel trapped in a world where everything moves in slow motion...where life is walked with twenty pounds of bricks stacked on my shoulders. I feel heavy. Everywhere I look there are questions I don't have the answer to and I feel like a fish out of water...time is ticking and with each passing second there is an increase in desperation. The lack of oxygen is burning my lungs and every choice gets less and less thought out...because every choice is based on my need to exist instead of my need to make the correct choice.
Ben spent almost a week here in Nashville with me. I dropped him off at the airport on Wednesday night and sobbed the whole way home. I wasn't sure why i was crying. I didn't know if it was because of the fear of losing him or the sadness of not seeing him for another 8 weeks. Perhaps I was crying over the illusion being gone that he would bring me the happiness I have been missing for so long... or that with him everything would feel right. Whatever it was, pain gripped my body like the summer heat that burns your skin after extended time in direct sunlight. I am terrified. I swore a long time ago that I would never let myself love like this again. I would never give someone the ability to crush me with a word or abandon me by walking away. I would set better boundaries and be in control of every relationship in my life. The funny thing is that love, true love, isn't something that can be controlled. I look at the things in front of me and wonder what it would be like to only do the things I really wanted to do. I wouldn't be going to Disney world with work next month. I wouldn't be working weekends or nights. I wouldn't be seeing a dietitian or struggling with eating. I would be furthering my education. I would be getting my degree. I would be teaching or speaking or loving deeply...I would feel hope.
What happens when the people you love and need the most in your life are on two different sides of the country. How do you make the right decision when the decision to move could throw everything I have worked for off balance...and yet it could also start putting all the pieces into order. How do I move for a relationship that could possibly end in just friendship... and yet has the possibility of marriage. How do I face a past while living among the people who were a part of it. How do I decide between being near the one person who I actually trust, the one person who actually knows me... and my family and boyfriend? Will I ever recover? Will I ever be free? This "drama" that surrounds me battles for my life. Abuse. Sickness. Lack of boundaries. It all adds up to exhaustion and yet it all feels like I am making such a bigger deal out of things than needed. I look around me at the people in my life who are concerned about such normal things...and I can't help but wonder if I am the one creating all the energy around the crazy decisions and struggles I face everyday. How could this all be so real? But even if that were true...even if all this was a figment of my imagination and something I have created to distract or attain attention or support or whatever one would make something up for...even if I took all of it away the sadness would still remain. It's like trying to wake up from a dream while you are still half conscious...you drift in and out of sleep returning to the same pretend course of events that are being strung together in your mind. I want to wake up. I want to shake the heaviness from my shoulders and feel the lightness of walking free. But how do you wake up from something that you aren't sure is a dream? How do you keep pressing on even when you aren't sure there is light on the other side of the tunnel? I know its worth it. I know anything is worth risking the known in order to experience a life I have only dreamed of knowing...even with all of its ups and downs and imperfections.
So it all comes back to being courageous. Staying sick is weak. Staying sick and not chancing the harder option...living life as an adult in a world that could throw anything back in your face...that takes nothing more than just getting by and letting the rest of the world take care of you. Recovery isn't for the light hearted. Recovery isn't for those who want to be taken care of and pacified for their entire lives. Recovery isn't for those who run away or back down when faced with challenges and insecurities. Walking in freedom means looking at all the shit of life and saying I won't back down. You will not win. I will not be contained to a life of sickness and depression. I was made for more. I was not made to just survive... I was created for a life of soaring into the dreams God has placed within me. So I walk into the unknown with tears and fear in my eyes...longing for the day when joy will be my strength. But for today, I will say, I will not give up. I will keep fighting.

Finding My Voice

It had been about 9 months since I had seen my outpatient dietitian. Nine months of intense physical, emotional, and spiritual warfare. Nine months of wondering if there really is a light at the end of the tunnel...or if this eating disorder will always be a weight resting heavy upon my shoulders, contributing it's opinion to every bite I take and reflection of myself I see. I got into her office and hardly remembered the girl I was all the months ago. She was worn out and lifeless. She was depleted of hope, nutrition, and passion. She was a mere skeleton of the person I once was. She was hallow.
I have a tendency to look back with nostalgia at the size of pants I used to wear and the bones that proved to the world that I was strong, self disciplined, and in control. I remember the lack of emotion with envy, wishing I could feel the rush of a run with nothing in me to burn...the physical pain that i could push past, making it appear that nothing could touch me...that I was more powerful then the average person. I didn't need the life essential things most people don't have the self discipline to resist. I look back with pride at my ability to tell myself what I could or could not have...even when my body depended on those things to sustain life. I look back thinking how powerful I must have felt. How strong. How free. Its then that the little voice of truth, which longs to be a roar, comes in to remind me that things weren't quite as beautiful as I optimistically recall. I can choose to walk back into the seduction of an abusive lover who claims things have changed...or I can choose to remember the black eyes and broken ribs and see that the word love meant nothing at all. Promises of adoration tangled around thorns and bruises can only leave you feeling ashamed and abandoned. I got to the point where the eating disorder didn't even need to open it's mouth. It's demeaning words had birthed something within me that grew with each passing day...it's words became my words...it's silent threats screamed at my weakness. "You disgusting whore. You pretend to be pure and naive when really your body has brought grown men to arousal since you were a child. You worthless piece of shit...you can only hope to hide within the flesh, the skin that hides your filth. All you have to offer is a pretty face... if they knew the truth no one would want you...no one would love you...and really who could blame them? Why would anyone choose the worn down ugly prostitute when they could have someone beautiful...someone worth loving. If you eat they will see your weakness. Your arms will grow and your checks will swell and they will look at you with pity, with disgust. They will hide their children from you hoping you don't rub off on their family. I am the only thing that gives you a chance to start over...to forget your past and to become desirable, to earn love. I watch your calories. I know if you take even a bit of something you aren't allowed to have. I am always watching and you will never know when I will appear to expose you. You need me to live, to breath, to survive."
I would be lying if I said I still don't glance over my shoulder in fear from time to time...watching for it's truth to become reality. But it's voice has started to weaken...the food I place in my stomach each day seems to starve it of power, as though it was feeding off of my emptiness. The scary thing about returning to my dietitians office today was to hear her point out the areas where I still allow it to speak. She can recognize it's voice...when I have genuinely convinced myself that I have denounced all its lies, or at least that I am aware when I am speaking them as truth. There is a feeling of powerlessness that comes when I realize that I am still at times being deceived by it's sweet whispers... when it is insisting that it has changed. "It's ok," I genuinely explain to my dietitian. "It had said it will only give me good things and it won't demand anything from me anymore. It just wants to still be a small part of my life...I mean after all, it loves me." It's a lie she says boldly. You can't have both. She points out contradictions in what it says it will do and reminds me that with the eating disorder it really is all or nothing. I agree with her in frustration, ashamed that I fell for its lies once more. She reminds me how far I have come in 9 months...and that being able to really hear and act based on accurate perspective of reality is progress. And she is right. Long term change doesn't come in leaps and bounds. The times I grow the most are the times I have to walk each step, giving me a visual reminder of why I am walking away in the first place. Each step gives me the opportunity to make the decision once more to keep moving forward. The more often I make the decision, the more empowered I am to see that I have a choice...and that there is power in that alone. Anorexia will never give me strength. Strength comes from finding that I have a voice...and that true love will never take that voice away.

A letter to Me...Fight for Freedom

When I was in treatment for my eating disorder last summer we were expected to complete an assignment before we could "graduate" from the program. The assignment was to write a letter to ourselves from the stand point of recovery, that we could read if we started to relapse, reminding ourselves that freedom is worth the fight and that the eating disorder will do nothing except destroy you. I was looking through my journal tonight, getting ready to write out the thoughts in my head...and I found this assignment tucked inside the middle. Even though I am not in a place of relapse right now I found it to be such an encouraging reminder of the trade off I make when I choose to go back to restricting. So, I thought I would type it out...have it saved in a place I won't lose it or forget it...a place where it could possibly bring hope to someone else spiraling out of control, giving in to the monster we call an eating disorder.

Dear Bethany,

Take a deep breath and relax for a minute. Even though the world is feeling out of control right now remember that the eating disorder will only make things feel worse in the long run. You have worked so hard for recovery. It took you weeks for your stomach to even adjust to having food inside of it. Before treatment, while you were so deep in your eating disorder, you were miserable. You daily wanted to end your life. You were constantly depressed and exhausted. I know you must feel helpless right now. You probably feel alone and like there is no one in the world you can trust. It's ok that you feel this way, but hear me say that it's not true. You have to turn things around and you don't have to do it alone. Think back to the days before treatment. Do you remember how hopeless you felt? You didn't have enough energy to have friendships or relationships. You were constantly annoyed with everyone around you. No one trusted you with anything important...not even their friendship. Do you remember the feeling of a feeding tube being shoved through your nose, down your throat and into your stomach? Do you remember the stares of the people everywhere you went. Do you remember how children were afraid of you and parents didn't trust leaving their children with you? Do you remember the constant whispering and the embarrassed grown ups apologising for their children asking blunt and "improper" questions. You were too tired and depressed to think about pouring out the love of Christ into the lives of others. You couldn't manage thinking about finishing your degree or mentoring younger girls...you didn't think you would live that long. Pain filled every single day and you really thought the eating disorder was making it bearable...it was the only thing keeping you safe. That was a lie. The eating disorder surrounded you with emptiness. It kept you alone. It made you drown daily in fear. You thought anorexia was your mask which made you desirable...made you lovable. But it never gave you love. It never gave you hope. It never gave you worth. It stole everything from you...your pride, your self worth, your confidence...it told you that you would die without it...and in all reality you were dying by staying inside of it. No number was low enough. Every number reminded you that you were fat, disgusting, and lazy. Ed promised that you would feel beautiful...but the thinner you got the more worthless you felt. If you start restricting it won't take long to fall back into it. All Ed needs is one grasp on your ankle, and you are pulled under before you can change your mind. You will stop going out with people and stop returning phone calls. When people hold you accountable you will get defensive and before long you will want to move away...find a place where everyone will just leave you alone. But that will kill you. Hear me say it will destroy your life. Nothing is worth going back. Nothing is worth the shame and pain and hatred the eating disorder brings. I know the eating disorder numbs you from the searing pain of the abuse, the pain of loss. I know you desperately want your past to fade away, for life to be lived as if it didn't happen. But it did happen. But you have already survived it. Face it so that one day you can be set free from it. You want to get married one day. You want to have kids...and you know you will be an amazing mom. You know you have dreams buried inside of you...and they are within your reach...much closer than you can see. There is joy. Life is worth living. You know you want to touch the world and you know that it's possible. You know the eating disorder is selfish and is simply a way to stop feeling the emotion that is deep inside of you.

You made so much progress in treatment. You worked so hard to get your life back. God has so much more for you than an eating disorder. You have so much to offer this world. Satan has been pulling the strings of your mind to lure you away from the safety of Gods grace...His acceptance...His love. Spit in his face. He only wants you alone and helpless...he only wants you dead. Run to the Lord...even if you don't feel like it. Tell Him your heart and ask Him to help you. Stop restricting. Stop exercising outside of your agreed contract. Think about all the people before treatment who looked you in the eyes and cried to you in fear of the nearness of your funeral. Going back isn't an option. The flashbacks and the abuse are hard to face...but they are unto freedom. Cling to the Lord. Hold on to the people He has surrounded you with. Hold onto HIS truth..the only real truth...that in Him ALONE you have been set free. Fight for your life. You deserve it.

Learning to love you,
Bethany

love

As I lay in bed tonight I wonder if the last week of my life was real...or if it was simply a beautiful dream. For the first time, in as long as I can remember, I have felt light. Maybe not physically, but within my heart and my soul,there was freedom. My heart danced and sang to a song I had only heard about...the melody of being in love. If I was on the outside looking in I would think the situation was totally crazy. I would think I was insane to believe I could fall in love so quickly...that I could be this sure in only 7 days. I can't explain it with words or convince anyone of its truth...but ask anyone who witnessed moments, days, conversations... they would tell you it's undeniable. I say its only been one week but that really isn't true. My whole family told me within days that they knew He was the one. I have been talking to him for about 2 months now. Emails, messaging via text and online, phone calls...all had built the road to last Monday night. And within an hour, I knew. I just knew. Going back to Nashville on Wednesday is going to be a challenge. Him leaving the country every other week is going to be a challenge. BUT, we both know that this week of what my sister likes to call "speed dating" is just the beginning. We may "know" but we both have alot of growth to do before the wedding will ever happen. ALOT of personal pain we both have to fight through...we both agree that rushing into something isn't practical right now. So we are going to go through this dance, this process, this adventure together. And we are going to enjoy the sweetness of new love.

The thing that amazes me the most in this whole thing is how much knowing you are really going to get married and have a family one day takes the pressure off. I don't feel like I have to worry anymore about how to find this person... and when I sit and think about how much time I wasted worrying...when God knew the whole time. The WHOLE time. Its an awakening to me of how far I have to go in trusting the Lord. I like to tell myself that its not that I don't trust God...its more that I just like to be in the loop to know the timing...which is exactly the piece that makes the word faith to be faith.

These days have been humbling as well as amazing. They have brought up a past im not proud of and an addiction that I know has the power and ability to destroy this relationship if i am not careful. It has shown me places of denial in my life, places of insecurity, of lust, of pride. It has shown me that the facade I present to the world of being the perfect Christian means nothing when its filled with holes through which sin will spill out. At the very same time the last week has shown me of my ability to love deeply, to enjoy family and friends and life...the ability to be myself and to be desired because of that. To be flawed and "used" and totally human...and yet to be someones answer to prayer. It is truly amazing. I have seen the heart of a man this week that is desperate to follow Christ. I have seen us as fellow believers come to the Lord together, as sinners saved by grace, needing grace and redemption and guidance in how to walk out this relationship. I have seen a man who treats women with love, with patience, and with respect. A man who hears the word no and stops without question. He is such an amazing blessing in my life.

I know this isn't my typical blog entry. I know this isn't an update on food or eating...but I hope it's a blessing to be reminded that in a world filled with pain the Lord brings abundance where there has been famine. He brings restoration where there has been great loss. He lavishes joy and love, even when we make mistakes. God has had me so tightly in his hands and knew this week would come...I truly never had to worry about my future...because He placed the desires of my heart into my heart...and He is a God who loves to give to His children...in HIS timing...His perfect timing. In good times and bad...God is good. In trial and blessing...God is powerful. In loss and in plenty...God is in control..

I know there is always a chance I could be wrong...but regardless, I am so thankful for the goodness of the Lord. I am so thankful for a week of easy breathing, after a year of pain and hard work. I am so blessed and so undeserving...I am so thankful for the gift of life through Jesus... I am so thankful that He is everything I need...and yet He chooses to bless us with relationships of all kinds. I am so thankful that apart from Christ there is no good thing...and that in Him I have the hope of glory.

Tied to a balloon

It's 2 am and I am wide awake. Pictures on my walls are suddenly quite interesting as I get lost in my thoughts, my busy mind. I sit and contemplate life as a whole...wondering why I long for a definition that has no backing, no authority. "Normal" I speak out loud. A word with a million definitions, none of which can truly define each individuals perception. The meaning of the word changes without warning, condemning me for my lack of ability to follow the rules with ease...flawless precision. I should be able to know the way normal will be at each step in my journey...my lack of adaption only further proving my distance, showing me how out of reach it remains. I hang my head low, ashamed at my inability to be perfect...to be wanted...to be seen. I don't need anyone else to point it out or to punish me...God knows I do a better job of that then any other person ever could.

Then I start to wonder, after years and years of failure, if the bridge I have searched for all my life doesn't exist. I wonder if this illusive place, this beautiful destination, has ever been achieved...and if it has, is it as wonderful as the advertisement claims to be? I begin to wonder if I have been reaching for something that is beyond my ability to grasp. I wonder if my lack of ability to become who I NEED to be isn't due to a lack of effort or talent or love or desire.... I simply wonder if my inability to find normal is that much like the wizard in the land of oz...it doesn't really exist. Could I be expending so much energy searching for an imaginary destination that I am missing out on reality, true life...messy, unique, out of order and upside down at times...but a tangible place where my story can be made beautiful.

A pink balloon...tied to my wrist...its beauty captivating. It remains in the air above me with every turn and twist in the road. At times the wind will push it away but the string is tied so tightly that I can always pull it back in, allowing myself to fixate once more on its magical presence. The problem is that its helium will only last for a short time. It's life so to speak short lived. I could spend my life with a balloon tied to my wrist, always changing balloons before its magic is gone...always trying to conform myself to a life with it tied to my arm, following me wherever i go...following me when its not convenient. Grocery shopping,taking a shower, going to a movie theater...all strangely awkward. But the balloon on my wrist is beautiful and I'm sure it must be worth all its inconveniences...after all, its beautiful.

There comes a day when I face the choice of leaving the balloon behind and embracing reality as it is...without the beauty and magic the balloon brought...or I remain on the other end of the leash. As I slowly untie the string on my arm tears well up in my eyes, there is grief in my loss of what I thought would make me happy. Its hard to let go of something that has been attached to me for so long.I hold my arm out stretched, as high as my fingers can reach...the balloon barely within my grasp...and then in a moment it is gone. The beauty flying high into the clouds...soaring away, dancing in the wind. As tears roll down my face I turn to walk away and am struck by the ease of my movement. I am no longer attached, weighed down. I find that in my letting go...I am free.

entertaining elephants

I guess I haven't written lately because I don't feel like there is much left to say. I know what I have to do and feel as if words have become an excuse...a justification for things left undone...goals that have not been met. I have always struggled with the concept of just changing what you believe about something. I used to struggle with it all the time within my relationship with God. People would tell me that I understood God in my mind but that it was clear I hadn't been able to move that head knowledge to my heart. Its such a funny concept. How do you logic your way into something that in most ways is an emotional shift...a knowing within the core of who you are. The answer of course is that you can't. As a nanny I have found many concepts over the years that children can grasp much easier than an adult. We know too much for our own good. We have been hardened and calloused by the sin in this world and the free will of man. We can't go back to a time when we knew less so that we can more readily accept the understanding of the heart.
I have found myself struggling with something much the same and yet quite different. Imagine for a minute that you closed your eyes and suddenly you could see yourself ridding an elephant. Its a silly example but stick with me. So you see this so clearly that you can't really tell if you are actually ridding this elephant or if you are standing still, closing your eyes. You can feel the up and down movement of this huge animal walking beneath you. You can feel the texture of its skin and see its truck swatting off flies. The air around you is hot. You hear kids laughing and people talking. Sweat builds on your forehead and you reach to wipe it away. Its silly you think to yourself, I have never ridden an elephant. But you recognize the clothing you are wearing. Something seems very familiar about the whole thing and yet you watch in a slowed first person vantage point, waiting to see what happens next. Then abruptly you open your eyes. There are no elephants. Its the middle of winter and you wipe your forehead to find there is actually sweat that has collected. You blink a few times to check the reality of where you are standing and you contemplate the elephant ride. You have to ask yourself if you created those moments within your mind, or if they are a reality. Why would there be such detail if it was all in my head? But then again how do you believe something that never was, and suddenly call it as if it is.
Now what if it wasn't just an elephant ride. What if it was something far more important? The validity of your memory of the elephant really has very little impact on your life. Who cares if you made it up. Who cares if its all in your head. It's just a ride on an elephant. But what if the memory brought with it information that not only deeply impacts your life...but also places huge accusations on someone else. Its no longer just affecting my life...its now leaking into the lives of those around me. Years have passed. People change. So what do you do about something that demands to be faced and yet offers no proof...its my word against theirs...and lets be serious...who would believe me?

So I get frustrated. I tell myself to choose already. Just decide if its real or not and stick with it. I should be able to do this by now. I should be able to keep moving forward. And instead I keep waiting for the journey to hit flat even ground. I am tired of the hills and the mountains and the valleys...I just want some time to run in the beauty of whats around me...the new found life that promised joy, hope, and freedom. I don't want to face elephants. I don't know how to make myself believe something that I have no concrete memory or evidence to prove. I don't know how to change the understanding of my heart. There is no amount of logic that can talk me into true belief. True belief comes from an experiential revelation... a shifting with in the heart. I have been lied to far too many times to just believe something because its presented to me as fact. It's exhausting to think about. Its exhausting to hold onto. When something comes into the light there is a new found responsibility to act based on the reality of what is before you. You can't go back to not knowing. You can't pretend it away. When it was buried in the depths of your heart you couldn't have responsibility for responding accordingly. But once it slips into the light its there for all to see. You can't logically take what is and call it as if its not. But how do you know that what you have seen is real? How do you have a flashback and yet have no concrete memory. But the problem remains... you can't hide an elephant in your living room and pretend its not there. You have seen it. You see it everyday. I guess you could pretend you don't see it...but eventually you would ave a dead elephant lying on your floor...not being strong enough to move it on your own, it lays there, untouched. I guess my only choice really is to make friends with the elephant. Feed him. Figure out why He is there...and how to walk him back to return him to where he belongs. He had to get in there somehow...but the sooner you stop pretending he isn't there, the sooner you can get your living room back in order. It may be hard to get rid of that smell...who knows it may smell a little strange forever...but anything is better than having a dead elephant in your living room. So I guess I keep walking. Its too late to turn around. I like to believe I have less in front of me to face than what I have already been through.

I don't really have too many encouraging words. I'm worn out...ready for a break...ready for the elephants to leave me alone...ready for them to return to where they belong.

out of answers

I keep waiting for words to fall out of my fingers. I keep hoping to magically feel the release of expressed emotions...and nothing will come. I feel like all the words have been used and all I am left with is the words that no one really uses...the miss matched savvy words that no one really understands...they complicate more than they bring clarity.




I was at work today, nannying for miss Ansley. As usual she didn't sleep much the night before and I was given the wonderful job of appeasing and playing with a child who wants everything and nothing all at the same time. The attempt at a nap failed miserably and by 5 pm this evening Ansley was laying on the floor in target sprawled out screaming. Her words had long since ceased and only screams and groans and growls remained. For awhile I kept getting frustrated with her, reminding her to use her words to get her needs met. She looked at me with her 20 month old eyes as if I had lost my mind...and maybe indeed I had. So in that moment I stopped, looked at that little girl who was driving me crazy, and scooped her up into my arms. One would think she would respond with thankfulness and love, right? Yeah not so much. The screaming got louder in fact and she flailed about in attempt to free herself of the arms that held her tight. I wasn't really phased. I struggled to carry her and the things we were buying all at one time but i managed to awkwardly proceed to the checkout. In exhaustion she gave in and clung tighter to my arms...laying her head down my my shoulder.

It is funny that I find so many parallels between myself and this sweet almost 2 year old. She so blatantly freely expresses the feelings I make look so tidy and neat. I fall apart behind closed doors, when I can hide from the world, where no one can see the shame of my failure. Now it was never that Ansley had failed at anything. Ansley was simply over her capacity. She was capable of expressing her needs to a point, and than when the exhaustion set in...when her lack of sleep and inadequate nutrition and irritation with a new baby brother being born all came to a peak she lost her connection to what she wanted and what she needed. She had no clue what she wanted or needed. All she knew was that she was in distress and that she was mad about it. She began to fight everyone and everything...in attempt to make her world stop hurting. She didn't need me to wait until she figured out the right words to express what she wanted. She didn't need me to explain to her the reasons behind my decisions. She needed me to put down the other things I was carrying, get down on the floor with her, and scoop her into my arms. She needed to feel safe in the midst of not knowing any of the answers.

I'm not sure exactly how this translates to me. I'm an adult, I don't need to be carried. I know better than to lay on the floor throwing a tantrum...but some days I wish i was brave enough to not care...and to express how I am really feeling. I'm sure some would say the translation is my need to be the "grown up" Bethany and come in and metaphorically pick up that little girl inside myself and take care of her. The problem is that I don't see the little girl Bethany laying on the floor sprawled out, angry at being on the ground and angry if I have to stand up...I see me. As myself. Totally unsure of what to do. I don't know, I guess it just is the picture to explain the feeling inside of me that lacks words. All that is left is suppressed screams and censored growls. All that is left is the silence...is the smile that convinces no one.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it to the next point on my life map. I don't know how to reconcile the feelings and the memories and my relentless faith in Jesus...and the exhaustion that has set in. How long do you fight when it feels like the deeper you go the worse things become? How do you keep pressing forward when there is no sign of light at the end of the tunnel? I know the answer is that you do it by moving with courage. I know that you keep pressing because the only true sign of failure is ending the battle in retreat...that forward movement in and of itself is victory. Maybe the lack of words and the fallen posture aren't the worst place to be. Perhaps its when we have lost all words and lost all fight that we lay broken and mold-able. Perhaps its that when all of my answers run out that I am suddenly able to hear the Lords voice. Its when my best attempt has failed that I maybe become willing to listen to the voices of those who believe the light is coming soon. I ran out of the "I know better"...and I have been left with the broken realization that I really don't know the way out. The only thing I cling on to is that God does.

So tonight I lay broken on the floor, exhausted...trying so hard to figure out what will pacify the swirling of my mind. But instead of numbing out I lay in silence...deciding that sleep will bring morning and morning new light...new hope...new joy...new perspective.

"I don't know much, that much is true. The queries are endless, my answers are few. But life has caused me to conclude, I can face what I don't know by singing about what I do." - Ginny Owens