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Purpose within the pain....

I met someone today. In the smallest of moments that we don't even think about, a moment you see as just an inconvenience in our day, so we rush through it without being present in the moment so in the end, we've missed the moment entirely. We're somewhere else, thinking about a meeting, errands, ourselves, some mundane detail of our lives that always feels more important than the person in front of us. It's a blink. A whisper of a moment. It makes your day look like swiss cheese, with all these blank voids of the day that were missed by not being present in it. I'm an introvert, if you take even 60 seconds to read and learn about introverts you'll find 2 major notable points - one, no extrovert will ever be capable of turning an introvert into an extrovert. Stop that, we don't like that. It's rude to treat us as if we're somehow broken because we don't operate like you. And two, we find superficial small talk very draining, mentally, emotionally

Can you even tell I'm a Christian..

  That's a thought that's been on my mind lately, and even more so as it seems to be popping up in different interactions with people. Or perhaps I'm simply noticing it more because it's been on my mind, on my heart. But either way, there it is, with a heavy thunk as it's dropped itself into the middle of my thoughts and just stays there, perfectly centered in every avenue a thought could take...can you even tell I'm a Christian? Without being a dreaded bible thumper of older ways, without stuffing down beliefs into your throat so fiercely it actually turns you away from Christ...can a person, even tell? Whether it be through conversation, or watching my behaviors, how I treat people, without diving into my deepest thoughts as they are here, could you even tell? The question has overflowed into all areas, spilling into each thing I do, each thing I read, every sentence, would anyone know.... And the question - hurts. Because to answer it, to be fully transparent

Being Mad at God...

  I've spent the better part of 2023 being mad at God. Mad because I didn't like how my life was turning out. Mad that I couldn't control that. Mad that He wouldn't heal me, fix me, give me my health back. Mad that I didn't understand why He wouldn't grant me that, to be healed. Mad that for the better part of the last year it's felt cold and lonely, as if a great distance stood between me and God. Only I didn't know if He put the distance there, or I did. I'm not good at a lot of things in life, but I'm good at distance, at building walls. I had to for so long, to survive living with those that were supposed to love me, and once I no longer had to build walls, I can't seem to learn how to stop. So there I was, countless times, laying bed bound, or on the floor about to pass out again, crying out in the darkest of dark, cold, lonely silence - crying out for healing that still hasn't come, for understanding of why my life has to hurt so ba