Sometimes, it’s more like a crawl.
It’s more like a crawl than a walk these days. My zeal and passion for life hidden so high on the mountain I’m on. Or, maybe it’s back at the bottom somewhere. I’m really not sure. When crawling is the method in getting from A to B or from bottom to top, you’re not quite sure you’re getting anywhere, or if you ever will. The top of that mountain seems endless to me most of the time; almost unattainable. Some of my dreams are up there, but too many more of my dreams lay shattered at the bottom. I’m tempted to go back and lay in the rubble – to become one with the dead dreams that have fallen so deep within the soil. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve died already because such a big part of me has. Not just someone I once held and laughed with and dreamed for, but a very piece of my heart is in that soil – dead and buried. The dreams at the top just don’t seem as attainable anymore, nor do they appeal to me the way they once did. Will I ever return to me? Will I ever reach the top? Will it matter if I do? These are the things I’m not sure of. These things, along with so many others.
Psalm 73:25 says, ‘Whom have I in heaven but you? and there is none on earth that I desire beside you.’ But, I’m here IN this earth right now. So how do I keep going? How do I stop crawling and begin walking again? I want God to move in me. I want to experience Him in ways unimaginable – to feel him holding me and guiding me. Jesus felt forsaken, and we see the beautiful outcome of him pushing through. Even unto death, he didn’t quit. I feel forsaken, but, if I’m honest, I don’t feel as strong as Jesus. I don’t know how to push through right now.
Maybe, I will look back and see that God has been carrying me all along and pulling me through these dark times. That’s what I want – for God to be glorified. But, God doesn’t crawl and God doesn’t faint. Why am I crawling? Why aren’t I soaring? Something is holding me back with every step. A part of me is stuck in October 2013, and none of me is ready to face October 2014. I don’t want this. I often say out loud, ‘This cannot be real. This cannot really be my life.’ I guess I’m still waiting to wake up from this nightmare.
I want to be the carefree woman with child-like faith again. I want to be able to answer my kids questions and offer my friends hope. I want to be everything I was and everything I’m not anymore. I miss me, and I don’t like crawling. It hurts, and it’s exhausting. It doesn’t get me where I want to go fast enough, and it’s easier to fall flat on my face. I’m shaky and unstable in the places that were once so firm and founded.
But, in this moment it’s all I can do. And, I have to remind myself that it is better than sitting stationary and it’s better than laying down dead. It’s better than quitting, and it’s better than going backwards.
Sometimes it’s more like a crawl.