I know what it is like to die. To want to surrender life. To, in a sense, stop feeling. To be so numb. To not exist. Like what I was created an empty place in space and time. So alone and lonely. So pressed down, depression had become my identity.
Hope was very far gone from everything close. To me my purpose was to not be. I understood hamlet well.
I had forsaken God, for I had believed he had done the same.
But I was wrong. He had never left. He had always been there. I had chosen to believe that pain was the only choice. That fear of everything else was so much great. I lived that choice and paid a great price for it.
But he sat patently waiting for me to turn to him. To run with everything so he could take it. He loves me so much, and yet I doubted him. That is unforgivable. And yet he has done just that, forgiven me.
There is hope in the middle of the storms. Even when we choose to let go, but even more so when we choose to cling to his. Amazing love. I have no doubt that God is alive.
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