I am without God today. Devastatingly without God. Without hope. I stress today, because I know it will not be forever. It just feels like it. Just. Hah…just. What a silly minimization. Unjust, more like. The feeling overwhelms, threatens to push me down into the abyss once more.
I have been through enough of these cycles to know that God will come back to me (or more aptly, I will come back to God) in due time. When I am ready. When I am not in the downward spiral of depression. When I can find hope again.
Exploration of body, exhortation of body, existing as Some Body instead of No Body, is rife with danger. With fear. With pitfalls. All of them rear their ugly heads as I contemplate self-care, as I contemplate self-love, as I contemplate melding mind and body.
God…I hate this. I hate this, God. I need help. I need you here beside me. I need you here celebrating my soul with me. I need you here bringing the calm and inner quiet that I find only in my relationship with you.
A way in. That’s what I need. A way in. To God. To Love. To Hope.