This is your time to weep

Today was one of those days where I just woke up in a good mood. I was meeting Ryan and David at Elizabeth's, then going to help out at the thrift store. I was excited, and things were good.

Then I got to Elizabeth's. Ryan was there, but no David. Things were still good. Ryan ate pizza and I ate cheese and we made fun of TV commercials while we waited for David.

And then David showed up. We ate pizza, made fun of TV commercials, and things were good. Still.

Then we went to the thrift store; folded clothes, sorted things, etc. etc. And things were still good. And then all of sudden, it felt like someone completely and utterly punched me in the gut.
I couldn't explain it. I still can't. But out of nowhere it felt like my heart broke all over again. And suddenly being there in that thrift store folding clothes became the hardest thing in the world.

I realized that when I have free time, I think about it. That's why I've been killing myself to hang out with Shai and T.J. and Kurt. Not that I don't love them, because I do. But when I am alone with nothing to do, it comes to mind. And those are the times when it's the hardest to forgive, to get through it, to trust God.

And I'm lucky to have friends like mine who somehow recognize it the instant the feeling hits and are willing to do anything to make it go away, whether it's distracting me by driving me around Thomasville for two hours, or picking me up and spinning me around until I can't see straight.

There is a very good chance that right now I am just trying anything to avoid facing this head on. Or maybe I just don't want to run the risk of having idle hands. Either way, there is still a very, very long way to go in this healing process. But every shouting match I have with God, every person we confide in, every bible verse I am reminded of, every stupid game of "Would You Rather?" and every single church parking lot conversation is a small step towards the slow healing of a broken heart. Even through all the times I neglect God, all the times I yell at Him and swear up and down that I hate Him, He still holds me in His hands. So for now, small steps will just have to be good enough, because I know that eventually they will bring me to where I need to be.

This is your times to mourn
Not yet a time to build up
Just a time to tear down old walls
Old walls