There is a stack of letters nearby, just waiting to be addressed and put in the mail tomorrow. I drove two-and-a-half hours (or five hours, if you count round trip) to see a friend today and support her through her trials. And before I go to sleep tonight, I will pray for numerous friends and family members, and ask God to bless the ones who have a knack for breaking my heart.
And through it all, God whispers, I love you, I will support you, you are Mine, and no detail of your life slips by me unnoticed.
Because, in the middle of loving others (whether it's enjoyable or not), it's easy to isolate my own hurts and my own battles and refuse to share with others how I'm hurting. So many of my friends are struggling; why would I let my own troubles get in the way?
If you would've asked me how I'm doing today, I never would've let you know about everything I dealt with last night and for so many days before.
Because I'm strong, right? I'm a big girl, right? I mean, why would I let anyone know I'm weaker than I seem (as if people don't already know!)?
Oh, shut up.
This is me. Tear away the layers of self-defense, scrape away the paltry excuses for why I look so tired all the time, break down the walls that never really did me any good, anyways. I'm only human. A God-indwelt human, yes, but not without my struggles.
If I worked half as hard to take care of myself as I do trying to take care of others, seriously, you would see a remarkable change in me. It's just a matter of whether I think I'm worth the effort or not. Whether I can justify with myself the fact that it's okay to do what's healthy for me.
But if I'd really believed that I'm worth it, I honestly think that nights like last night wouldn't be so frequent. Because seeing yourself the way God sees you...
It'd change everything.
(p.s. and I'm not giving up, not yet, not now, not ever.)