I sat down to write an entry after what has seemed like forever, but just like all the other times I’ve tried, words elude me. I’ve thought about summarizing my journal entries or giving a narative of my past weeks, but nothing in those prospects are blog safe. What I’ve struggled to type so often these past few weeks only end up being what politicians call “mudslinging”. I don’t want to become that kind of person.
Everything I am seems all wrong, and there is no way I can explain it in a way that would be accurately understood. Words and meanings have utterly failed me like never before, yet they can have such mighty power, as I’ve experienced before. I am ready to make an allusion to one of my favorite book series, but I hold back knowing how little people will catch if I do; they didn’t catch the significance of things before.
Somehow, I’ve been made a more evil version of myself, even than is my nature. There are thoughts in my head I’ve struggled to take captive to Christ’s obedience and harbored longer than I should’ve dared. There is a person more real than what you see that is trying to surface, but you don’t want him because both you and I don’t understand him. The “you” here is everyone I know. Sometimes, like now, I don’t want to think or speak or hear or do, for fear that it will start all over again. I don’t want to hear the voices, reinforced by experiences, that tell me just how insignificant I’ve been.
Even now, I can’t stop shivvering and it’s only partly due to the cold. I am drawn to the words of Michael Tait’s song “Unglued”. I’ve listened to that song probably two hundred times this past month. This is just hard. I know your first response is going to be to tell me that you’re praying and so on, but don’t just tell me that, show me.