To say the last month has been rough would be a major understatement. I’ve been struggling with another massive period of depression, and what has scared me the most about it this time is that I have been on antidepressants for 6 months now which are supposed to help. So there must be some pretty serious things going on to overpower the medication and lead me into a pretty bad depressive state, right?
Yes, and no.
What started it all were untrue stories continuing to grow and be manipulated even further. How is it that something that isn’t even close to being true can be so damaging to your mental state? My past, and a person I no longer want to ever know again, continue to haunt me. I give power to someone who is so incredibly toxic and everyone knows does nothing but lie and manipulate.
And then I thought I lost my best friend, a person that would lift me up even when I was being oblivious to the fact that I needed to be lifted up. Why? Because I made assumptions and put words into other people’s mouths. But Kyle, did you bother to ask what was really being said? Oh, but of course not! So I escalated something and almost ran away from my favorite people.
But I’m glad it happened, because for the first time I was able to prove to myself that I’m not only trying to heal and be a better person, I am actually doing it. I didn’t hurt another person because I was hurting. I didn’t make *too* many emotional decisions. I took a step back and processed and didn’t run away. And I realized I almost lost some of the most important people in my life because they hurt me about something that wasn’t even personal.
I deleted my social media accounts again. Why? Because there’s enough negativity going on in my head that I don’t need to see it all the time I’m bored and randomly pick up my phone. And it’s taking time away from the things that I need to prioritize more.
Therapy is one of my most important focuses for this year. I’ve been doing a lot of research on finding the right therapists and trying to figure out what it is I need. The word trauma gets used so much and it’s not one that I usually think too much about. But, why wouldn’t I? I’ve got some serious depression, and it’s not just being pulled out of nowhere. So what are my traumas?
That’s a really fantastic question.
A really great one.
And I can name off quite a few, but I’m running into an issue. One that I’ve never really put much thought into until I started hearing people tell their own stories.
I can not remember 99.9% of my childhood. And the things I do remember?
And apparently that’s not normal. Most people have core memories that they have. But I don’t. I think about it and it’s just a big empty spot in my memory. It’s very similar to the numbness I went through in 2019. A good chunk of that year is just a big blank space in my mind.
So… I don’t even know how to process things because I have these huge gaps in my mind. Do I just have a poor memory? I don’t think so. I remember a lot of educational things. And I remember a lot of things from about 16 years old on. But before that? Little tiny bits and pieces of things I really don’t want to even remember.
Guess that’s for my therapist to dive into, right?
Anyways, 2021 is going to be my year of healing. I’m going to be completely selfish and put my mental health pretty close to the top of my priority list. I thought my depression only truly affected me, but it turns out when I hurt those I love hurt with me. And some people feel my pain a lot more than I think they do.
So, here are my 2021 goals. I can promise you I will mess up a few times but I will be victorious in the long run. See if you can see my healing in each of these:
Drink more water.
Practice recognizing and applying expectations vs. reality.
Stop weighing myself. Do not assign my health and feelings to a number.
Support my kids more, especially in their creative outlets.
Post a blog at least once a week.
Read at least 1 book a month.
Practice restraint on spending money on others. Stop trying to buy people’s love.
Watch at least 1 movie a week with my family with all phones, iPads and gaming devices put away.
Build a treehouse with the kids (if possible).
Build my relationship with Jesus.
No eating out. Period.
Those are the things I want to work on this year. 2020 was the year I started building relationships. I gave my wife her husband back. I found someone who will call me out on my crap and tell me the things I need to hear, not the things I want to hear. I found someone who will pray over me, be a listening ear, shoulder to cry on and hug me tight to keep my pieces from completely falling apart. Now I need to take what these people have shown me and learn to start applying it to myself.
Because what I am doing is discrediting the love that they are actually giving me. The people in my life could be giving me the very last of what they have to offer that day, sometimes even stealing from their future selves, for me to say “yes, but”. Or to tell them they are lying.
The love these people are giving to me matters. Because they don’t have to be giving it to me. They are giving me a very big part of themselves that others aren’t getting. And that’s huge.
I am ONE of 7.8 BILLION people in this world alive right now. And these people are choosing to give ME a part of themselves.
I need to have enough respect to take it for the value they intended it to be. And to not discount it for my own poor misconceptions.
And I need to start loving myself. I have things that have gone wrong, but I know that things could have been much, much worse. I’m not as bad of a person as I tell myself I am.
I am worth loving. Jesus loves ME. So how can I say I’m not worth loving if I already have the truest love there is?
Love is such a powerful thing. I can say I don’t think people truly understand the love that I have for them. Like, real honest, unconditional love.
Love is what always brings me back out of my depressions. It’s not a lack of sadness, anger or hurt. It’s that all the gaping holes that are left behind from these emotions eating away at my mind I have Jesus there to fill them in, and he’s handed off some shovels to some very special people to help. And He has one for me, too. It’s always been in my hands but I always refuse to do the work. Because I’ve always felt comfort in the emptiness. Comfort in the pain. Comfort in the tears. Because they’ve always been there for me when everything else went away.
But they are lies.
I’m tired of lying to myself.
I’m tired of being tired.
So I’ve got the shovel. And it’s going to take some work because I’ve never done it before but I know it will be worth it to finally have the skills and knowledge to be able to make sure those holes never get as deep as they have been before.
To those who have struggled with reading my posts lately, I’m sorry. If it gives you any perspective on where I get to, take the pain you feel in reading my words and just realize that is only a fraction of what I feel when the depression sets in.
I know this post was very random today but I wanted to fulfill my goal of writing one post a week. I’m going to use this as a way to document my healing. Writing notes from my therapy sessions, or words of encouragement and wisdom from loved ones. But I will also be using it to process through my traumas so I can heal. It’s going to get rough but it will be worth it in the end.
Just please, never ever forget how much I truly love you.
What do you do when your good is not good enough?
What do you do when your good is too much?
And so this isn’t goodbye
This is the realization that our souls have been eternally tied;
The moment in time where I vow to always pray for you,
And to wish you the best,
And to love you in all of the ways refused by the rest.
I’m trapped in this place where I don’t know what to do.
What’s changed? To you? Nothing. To me? Everything. To go from finally being comfortable to questioning the things I do or say.
Where do I even belong? When I feel like the clouds are parting and the sun begins to pour in, I’m quickly pushed back into the darkness.
By whom? Me? Or others?
Do I try harder? Retreat? Pretend so everyone is happy?
Too much or not enough? Clearly just right was never an option.
My biggest fear is that eventually you will begin to see me the way that I see myself.
Not my quote, but it definitely hits home.
Today I am just going to share some things that I have found that have put into words the things I’m going through.
I have a bad habit of isolating when I am sad or depressed. Part of it is cause I don’t want to drain the happiness of those around me or burden them with my problems. Another part is because my mental state is fragile and I don’t need anymore negativity to make me feel worse than I already do.
I’ve been learning the value of not placing the people I love on a pedestal. It robs us both of our objectivity. And the inevitable fall from grace leaves me shattered every time.
This is not something you just logically understand and flip a switch. You get hurt and it takes work to come out of. But when that depression, that hurt, and that anger, that whole f*ing thing goes so deep that you can’t even feel your own body anymore. I read books and I tried to understand why this happened. I go to therapy, I meditate, I try to do good things, and I tell my parents I love them and I swallow it even when I don’t want to.
In every relationship I am too much.
Too much love to give.
Too many feelings shared.
But I don’t know how to close off a heart that needs love to feel alive.
I don’t know how to hold myself back from giving.
Even if it leaves me empty.Shelby Leigh
I started making my list of things I want to work on in this upcoming year. Practicing expectations vs. reality was one of them. I need to stop expecting things from others. I need to stop assuming that others will love me in the same way that I love them.
I also need to learn that I need to stop thinking I need to change if people don’t accept me for loving the way that I love. If others don’t like that I love deeply then that’s a reflection of them, not me. I’ve hid myself away from this world for a long time and I’m getting tired of being pushed back into the shadows.
I’m honestly looking forward to starting therapy soon. My traumas have officially outgrown my fears. I’m starting to see some of my problems reflected in my children. I need to be the best role model I can be to them and normalize therapy and let them know that it’s more than okay, it’s often a necessity.
I need people to understand that this blog is now my safe place for processing. I do not need anyone to try and “fix” me or my problems. I do not need others to take offense to the things I say. These are my thoughts and my feelings. They are me, not you. Regardless of if you may be partially responsible for some of my traumas or not, I don’t need any sort of acknowledgement, apologies or justifications. I post here because I can speak without anyone responding. This is a place for my thoughts to go, unfiltered. If things are hard for you to see I ask that you please just unfollow my page. I need this to be a safe place for me without fear of judgement or abandonment.
Until I can get into therapy I need this to be my safe place . I’ve lost too many of those and I need something that I can go back to and know will still be there. My own words aren’t going anywhere. My own words can be extremely damaging, but they remain as long as I let them.
I was recently told something that was pretty insightful. I am responsible for my own pain and sadness. It’s a simple matter of expectation versus reality.
Let me try to explain.
I absolutely dread my birthday. Every year I get anxiety leading up to the day and typically end it with sliding into depression. Why? Because I put false expectations on people that don’t even know that I’ve done it. I tell myself that despite what has happened historically that all of a sudden people are going to care about me. I mean Facebook even has a notification to let people know! But do you know what happens? I don’t hear from people. I’ve gone years of not being told Happy Birthday from my siblings. My own dad has even forgotten my birthday before. I hate birthdays. A day that should be a moment of happiness is typically one of my saddest days of the year. Every year.
But it’s my own fault. Honestly. If I had no expectations and I went into it knowing that it’s just another day then I wouldn’t be so disappointed.
Same with gifts. I’m fantastic at giving gifts. Why? Because I never want people to feel the way I do about getting them. I have this false expectations in my mind that people really “know” me and that they will be able to get me something that just is, well, me. And it doesn’t happen. I usually end up pretty disappointed in gifts I get so I prefer to just tell people that I don’t want anything at all.
Side note on gift giving, I give too much and I really need to stop doing that. I need to stop trying to “buy” people’s love. One, I spend a stupid amount of money on others. Honestly you really don’t want to know the extent of that. Two, it makes people feel bad when I do that for them. Shame on me for not thinking of others when thinking of others. As sarcastic as that sounds I’m being completely serious. I’ve always given anonymously because I didn’t want people to know the things I did. Because I don’t want recognition for things. I’m an extra in a movie scene. I’m there, but unless you’re really looking, and usually no one is, you won’t see me. But people told me to start letting it be known when I do things and now I get comments about people thinking I’m better than them, or that I’m pretentious, or that I’m doing more than they could do themselves. And I get hurt for doing things for others. That’s stupid.
Anyways, back to the gift giving. It’s my fault for thinking people really know me. So instead I just tell people things that I would normally get for myself. It’s easier for them. It’s fine that people don’t really know me. And the reason I’m writing today is because people still don’t know me.
I put expectations on relationships, especially friendships. And that’s why every single one of my friendships have failed. Instead of just going into them and letting them be what they are, I try way too hard and end up ruining things. Or crossing boundaries. That’s a big one for me. I love way too much. And in turn I get hurt. I get extremely hurt. I’m not anyone special so why do I always think things will be different?
I sent a text to my doctor yesterday and asked for a change to my antidepressant medication and he called an emergency prescription in for me first thing this morning. I’m grateful for that.
I’m not okay. At all. I’ve been hurting for awhile and yesterday the last of the light fell behind the clouds and the world went dark…
And what’s so difficult for me is that my life has been great lately. I can’t pinpoint what the triggers are. I don’t understand why my emotions take over and take me to a place that I hate.
I am in pain. Every day. Every day I remember more and more of the traumas in my life and I remember the things I’ve said that have hurt so many people. And I start to tell myself more every day that I’m not someone worth loving. If I were then why would so many people want to see me hurt?
But I’m already fighting back. I haven’t missed a day of medication since I got put back on them. And I’m still losing. It makes me feel like a terrible person, a terrible husband, a terrible father, a terrible son, a terrible brother, a terrible friend. Because my pain and hurting makes them feel like they aren’t good enough. And then my depression just gets worse.
I recently switched jobs and haven’t had insurance for a few months. Once I get it back it’s time to finally talk to a therapist. I’m not going to others for emotional support anymore. It’s too much for some people and others don’t know how to even be there when I need them. So I release you from your burdens of worrying about me. I will not be your problem any longer.
For now, this will be my safe place. I need somewhere to let these things out. I have traumas in my life that have lead me to be where I am now. And I’m realizing that last year was one of the worst years of my life, but it wasn’t completely my fault. I have a lot of things that I need to work through. It’s difficult because some of the people who read my blog have been responsible for my sadness, pain, loneliness and hurt. The hurt is what is the worst.
I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’m getting so tired, emotionally and mentally, of being the person who makes others uncomfortable. That’s legitimately one of the hardest words for me to hear because of all the traumas I’ve been through. All I want to do is love others but I even do that wrong. All it makes me want to do is retreat into a shell and never let anyone see me again.
I stopped letting people in for a reason. Shame on me. I bring it upon myself.
I haven’t been able to sleep well for months now. I struggle to fall asleep and I usually end of waking up restless in the middle of the night. I just want to sleep. I just need to sleep.
I’m not okay. But I’m not going to burden others with it. This will be my safe place until I start paying someone to be my safe place in a month or so.
Right now I just need some time before I make stupid emotional decisions. I’m a very fragile person and right now I feel like I’ve just been kicked around a lot and that I’m very alone.
Listen to: Ludovico Einaudi by Nuvole Bianche
Can you hear me?
I know you see me standing here but can you understand the words that escape me? I try to keep them in but sometimes they spill over to make room for more. There are too many of them now and I don’t like it.
It’s loud in here and it’s often hard to even hear my own thoughts.
I’m right here, with tears in my eyes and my face red from my screams. But you just stand there and look on as if you’re seeing through me.
There’s no one else around so why can’t you hear me?
If a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise?
Does it even make a sound?
An isolated tree that stands atop a hill is noticed when it sways and bends. But I know I’m a tree amongst a forest, and you wouldn’t be able to pick me out from the rest.
And that’s okay. Honestly, it really is.
I should be speaking to someone who comes to see me and not to those who walk through the forest and return home without a second thought to the wonder and beauty that they got to experience. My leaves will fall but I’ll be damned if they don’t come back in the next season and standing taller than the season before.
Does it make a sound?
Only to those who are actually listening for it.
Listen to: State Lines – Novo Amor
*Current song to listen to while you read this… Toby Mac – 21 Years*
Today marks 3 months since you left us. While I know you are in a much better place and are no longer in so much pain it doesn’t make it any easier. Especially around this time of year.
I was supposed to protect you. I’m your big brother. That was my job. To make sure you were safe.
But I failed you. And I failed your son. And I stole the little moments of joy from your life that you held onto so dearly.
I kept my children from you when they were such a bright spot in your life. Why? Because you did things away from them that I didn’t agree with? Yeah you were addicted, but you didn’t bring it around my kids. So why did I always make sure you were at an arms length away from us?
My new job is right by the funeral home where your body last was. And every time I drive by it I get angry at the bs and lies that came out of people’s mouths as they told stories of you. “She was the annoying little sister.” No, she really wasn’t. What was annoying about you? That you just wanted to love so deeply that you wanted to be around your friends and family all the time? Out of all the memories I have of you not one of them were ever of you being annoying. It was never you. You were the sweetest child I had ever met. You just wanted to spend time with us.
People gave up on you. They stopped making you a priority. Everyone went on with their lives but you were still a child who needed to be raised and taught right from wrong. And who was there to do that? I stole your sister away from you. She wasn’t there to teach you all the things she had learned.
You were always placed in peoples shadows. So of course you did things to try and make your voice be heard.
But I didn’t hear you. No one did. While you were screaming for help we were all distracted by the other noises around us. Granted, ours happened to be raising 3 kids but that shouldn’t have stopped us from letting you be a part of it.
I take solace in knowing that not once did we ever tell you that you were a screw up. Yes, we pulled away, but when we saw you we showed you love. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but the people who are struggling with themselves now because of the way they treated you while you were still here, they should be feeling guilty.
You were such a beautiful soul that had so much to offer this world. You had a beautiful voice that deserved to be heard. You loved my children so much and I never realized it until I had to go through all the pictures for your funeral. So many pictures with you and them. One of my biggest regrets is that while we have so many pictures of you from photo shoots I’ve done, I was always behind the camera and I don’t have a single picture of us together. Not one. My baby sister and I have no pictures of us.
It shouldn’t have been you. You made bad choices, but they were never to hurt other people. Yes, others were hurt because of them but your heart has always been so good. Why were you taken from us and not someone who intentionally causes pain and lies to others?
I struggle with you passing, even more than when my grandfather passed away. Because I now live every day wondering if I could have saved your life. I wonder if I would have pulled that car over and come over to you and asked you to come see the new house if you would still be here today. I wonder if we would have written you letters and explained to you how our lives have changed and how much we were looking forward to you being a part of it if you would still be here. I wonder if we would have let you see the kids more often if you would still be here.
I carry a lot of weight from you being gone. I find some peace in knowing that you committed your life to Jesus before you met Him, and that you now get to spend your time with your precious baby boy. But I so wish you were here. These holidays are going to be rough without you.
We plan on making sure that our kids never forget who you were. You were more than your demons. But you owned those demons and you never blamed others for them.
You should still be here.
I should have protected you.
I failed you.
And now I have to live with that failure for the rest of my life until I get the blessing of seeing you again.
I love you. You were so precious to us and I’m so sorry that we didn’t make it known more often.
I hope you left this world knowing you were wanted and you were loved.
May you rest easy, beautiful girl.
Your Big Brother
I am a broken person. I know this, and it is something that I don’t shy away from admitting. The problem, however, is taking that conversation any further than an oversimplified statement to avoid talking about my feelings.
I struggle with vocalizing my thoughts into words, so instead I decided to write them out. This isn’t a public forum that everyone I know has access to. I have personally curated my audience to those I am closest to, or those I believe care (as well as you random followers from around the world, too). And I know that some of you who read this say you genuinely do care, for whatever reason.
I love having deep conversations with others. The kind where people are a little outside of their comfort zones and are pouring out their hearts. Tell me your greatest joys. Tell me your fears. Tell me your passions. Tell me your life story. When I am close to someone I like to feel like I have had the privilege of knowing them for much longer than I actually have.
So I’m pretty good at initiating questions to get people to think. Because I have such a vested interest in their life. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again – when I love, I love deeply. And I think most people don’t understand what I mean by that.
But here’s something I don’t usually talk about.
I don’t feel as though I am worth loving.
So when I love another person so deeply, it is because I want to make sure they never feel the way I do. I have a lot of intentionality in the way I approach the relationships in my life.
I will randomly tell people I am thinking of them. Because I know what it feels like to question if you are actually thought of.
I will constantly tell people I love them. Because I know what it feels like to believe you’re not worth loving.
I will push to be involved in the day-to-day lives of others. Because I know what it feels like to be so alone and unwanted.
And usually when I fish long enough someone will bite and give me what I need to get through for awhile.
But sometimes, more often that I like to admit, I have these stupid thoughts in my head. “Just stop being the one to always initiate and see what happens. Let’s see if people even notice that you fade into the background.”
And the problem with that is it actually happens. Want to know a hard truth? I couldn’t tell you the last time either of my dads reached out to me just to see how I’m doing. I don’t know the last time I’ve even heard from any of my siblings personally. I don’t have many friends at all who even think of me.
And it doesn’t take long for the voices in my head to start attacking me on such a deep level. Here’s the problem with silence. When the world goes quiet the feelings of loneliness start to quickly set in. The thoughts of being unloved. Unneeded. Not relevant.
And the thoughts of feeling that the good things I do have in my life are just an illusion. They are there because I force them to be there. I interject my presence into people’s lives, pushing a relationship, not letting it be what it truly is. Or rather, that’s what I tell myself. Because sometimes I test it and I back off for awhile. I stop being the first to text. I stop being the first to say “I love you”. I stop asking questions to get to know people. And I wait to see if they will realize.
Totally unfair to other people, right? Yeah, it is. Because I make assumptions for others that might not necessarily be true. “Oh, they don’t actually care about me. They don’t actually love me.” No, Kyle, you moron. Maybe they were just very busy. Or maybe they don’t feel that it is as important to do that.
I have to be honest, guys. Before I start getting to this place, I always seek first. I can’t ask for it, but I drop hints like crazy. My S.O.S. is out there. I’m struggling right now, but do me a favor and go look at my last Facebook post. I yelled pretty loudly. I cried out for help. And yet no one heard me. Or, in my mind, they heard me and chose to turn their backs. I’m not worth the time and effort.
I’ve been in my head a lot lately but I’ve been trying to approach it in a way to communicate how I got there and how to get out of it. And I’ve come to realize it’s kind of fairly simple. It has to do with my love language
This is me, guys. And this couldn’t be any more true (although I will admit physical touch from some people may be higher. Hugs from some people literally make me feel so loved).
Words of affirmation. What does this mean for me? It’s simple. I just want to be reminded that I am here and a part of your life. A text saying “hey, I really miss you” or “I just wanted you to know you are in my thoughts today” are just major resets to my negative feelings. I don’t want praise, I don’t need you to say good things about me. I literally just want to feel like I’m not an afterthought.
Words to me are everything. The written word, especially. I keep cards. I keep letters (although I don’t have many of those). I keep pictures from others. I keep special artwork. I love to write letters. It is such an important thing to me. To take the time out of my day and to physically write down my words to another person. My personality flows through my writing. It’s personal. It is a physical piece of myself that I am giving to another. Emails and texts are great, don’t get me wrong. But knowing that someone went out of their way to do something that is so lost these days? Oh, my heart. I don’t have many letters. I’ve written a lot but I rarely get any in return. And that’s okay. When I mail them out my hope is that it just means to them what it means to me.
But the thing that can make me feel so incredibly loved is literally an “I love you”. Those 3 words say so much. It means you are thought of. It means you are cared for. It means you are important to the person saying it. Seriously, one of the greatest gifts I could ever receive is a letter just saying that. And I would hold on to it and cherish it for the rest of my life.
My other love language is quality time. Just being with certain people is an instant reset to my negative thoughts. I don’t care what we are doing. You want me to come clean toilets with you? But we get to do it together? Done. You want me to sit and watch a ridiculously unfunny movie, but we get to be close to one another? Done.
Quality time, especially when people can be themselves and it’s not forced. Be comfortable around me that you can literally just be yourself and not have to worry about anything. That’s quality time to me. If you don’t have to look a certain way, act a certain way or dress a certain way when I’m around, that makes me feel loved. That you make a conscious choice for me to be around in your life, and not putting on an image that you want to be perceived as. If I can be around you and you are the same person you are when it’s just your family? That makes me feel loved. If I come over in the morning and you aren’t around for the day, and you still want me to come in? Hair a mess and you’re still wearing what you wore to bed? That makes me feel loved. Just knowing that you are choosing for me to be in your life is huge to me.
Sounds like I’m pretty needy, right? You’re definitely not wrong. And that’s why I don’t like talking about it. That’s why I can’t ask for these things. I hint, and I make suggestions, but I hope that people want to do those things, not because I’m a high maintenance friend or family member. I don’t like feeling like a nuisance to someone.
I “jokingly” talk about how kids and seniors like me best because they don’t care enough to know any better. But honesty, it’s kind of how I feel. Little kids love me. I don’t get it, but it’s something about the way I can relate to them I guess. And older people always seem to have a special place in their hearts for me. But the weird thing is, I’m so willing to accept that these 2 generations have genuine love for me, but I can’t seem to accept that for anyone else who comes in between.
I don’t get it, either.
I try to be a good person. But am I really a good person? Or do I do it because it’s a distraction from being a terrible person to myself? Hmmm…
I have issues with pushing people to things that are more than they possibly are. It’s why most of my friendships have failed in the past. I put way more into it and ran a lot of people off. I probably still do. I do things like pushing that my closest friends are my family. Or always telling them I love them. Or a lot of things that I’m more than likely just overthinking.
Overthinking. It might be something I do best. Overanalyzing. Second guessing.
Do I know I am loved? Yes. Most days. Some days, however, I don’t believe it.
I have a lot less respect for myself than anyone knows. I feel like I am such an unworthy person.
So what can you do to help? Be intentional. But be intentional because it’s important to you. If it’s not genuine then it’s okay to step away. I don’t care about the quantity of love received. It’s about quality.
I asked my wife yesterday if I am a difficult person to love. She immediately told me that it is incredibly easy to love me. Do people really think that? And if that’s true, why do I feel the way I do?
To my family and friends, I love you so incredibly much. I hope you never go a day of questioning that. You are beautiful and mean so much to me.
I should be praying tonight instead of writing…
It’s remarkable how quickly you can be reminded of how fragile your existence is. Or how suddenly you can be halted in your thoughts on your place in this world and your importance in other people’s lives.
Have you ever watched a planned building demolition? It’s absolutely mesmerizing. Something that stood for so long can be brought to nothing in a matter of moments. The history of the building will linger for awhile, but you know you can never put it back the way it once was. You could try, but I can assure you the explosion absolutely destroyed parts of the building and it would never be whole again.
And all it took was the simple push of a button. One tiny little action that sets it all into motion. All the good could be gone in an instant. And you could be the one holding the trigger. But, you could also have no idea who has it.
My building has been demolished several times. I try to piece it back together. I even find extra things to support it and make it stronger than before.
But I’ve realized I’m a little trigger happy and I always seem to find my finger hovering over that button again. And I’ve learned that I’ve handed it over to more people each time I rebuild.
Tonight, I take solace in knowing that if my building continues to be destroyed, my God is always there to help me pick up the pieces and try again. And He usually brings a friend or two along to help me try again.
I love you.