It started yesterday, I think, when the time of the month came around and my body ached and dragged at every motion with the tiredness that makes even gravity too hard to move against. But that was merely physical; my ability to be easily annoyed made today worse. But those were surface emotions, feelings, that destroyed life and wonder and yet left me intact.
Then I got the call that a friend's unbelieving grandmother had passed away. My father's heart stands in the same place hers did, and my friend and her family...I ache for them. I open my email and read "Village Chief murdered, Pastor blamed." God, why must these things be? Why?
So I open my facebook, and find things that make me laugh. I do that because I can, because it is either that or go down to my room and realize that I am alone and crying once again. My heart is sore, father, and beaten. I want to be held, to feel all within me give way and yet be caught, to cry and scream and yell and whisper the secrets that are too heavy to keep and give them all to someone holding me. I want to be held.
But I don't even have the ability to let people hold me. I turn away, uncomfortable--am I asking them for too much? Will they still trust me, to make my own decisions, or more importantly, to hold them, if they see how weak, frail, and flimsy I really am? Will they let me help, if I show them how deep my own bleeding goes? Or will they judge me too weak, too injured, to bear that other burden now?
And can I ask from others? Can they give to me, without this forcing them to deal with resentment, impatience, worry? Can I ask of them, and not burden them, but bless them?
Who can even hold me? God, I want to be held! Can't you see me breaking apart? God, God, God...please. God. For them, the ones who have lost so much more than I have tonight, who need you so much more, For them. Hold them. God, who is big enough to hold each and every saint, come and find me. hold me. my God, my God, help me. please, hold me.
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