I Prayed About It

I opened my phone and another photo appeared. There seems to be a cadence that I have no control of. All of the pictures and videos saved in various albums serve as a reminder of the memories of yesteryear. The pain of wishing I was able to do more for everyone hasn’t gone away. I’ve just grown accustomed to the idea that this is the way things are — at least for now.

I spent so much time being upset with God that I failed to acknowledge how I damaged myself. I got stuck. I didn’t listen well enough. I didn’t give myself room to breathe. I made choices that I thought would help others, knowing they could hurt me. It felt like the right thing to do and I didn’t want to disappoint.

The problem for me was never that people didn’t believe in me. My issue is that everybody did. If they knew how much I was hurting by attempting to carry the weight of the world, I thought they’d look at me differently. I had to be the strong one. I did not want people to see me fail and that held me back more than actually failing ever could have. I missed lessons I needed to learn. I hindered my growth, all because I imagined that if I were to come up short that everyone’s love, belief and support would all disappear.

In many ways, it feels like I’ve lived that nightmare, all things considered. Nobody gets the blame for that. It’s an uncomfortable bed that I made. I prayed about it. My father keeps sharing the story of Job. When everything falls apart for Job, he leans even more into his faith. That is the only way I’ll ever be able to fulfill my mission here. It starts with me.

If you don’t take any other advice you hear, take heed to this — take care of yourself. It’s a must.

You deserve happiness. You deserve love. You deserve peace.