This is going to be real and raw and heavy.
Somewhere deep within me is a sadness that is embedded into my soul. I can’t explain it, I just know it’s there. I feel it almost every second of every day. It doesn’t leave me but for short snippets of time. I carry on with my days. I smile. I laugh. No one knows the sadness I carry unless I tell them it’s there.
I hide it well.
But it weighs me down. It nags at me, begging me to deal with it. I want so badly to share it someone. I want to tell someone about it. But not just anyone. I want someone who can sit with me and really understand. I want someone who can sit with me and really listen. Really empathize. Really feel what I’m saying. I need this.
I need it.
It isn’t enough to just briefly tell someone in passing that I’m sad. It isn’t enough. A quick conversation or text message isn’t going to help. An effort to cheer me up or a ‘look on the bright side’ moment won’t do the trick. I feel desperately alone and I need someone to walk alongside me.
I feel as though I don’t belong here. The person I’m looking for doesn’t exist except in the person of Jesus. And though He is with me in spirit, I still long to be with him in a more tangible way. I want to be with Him, not here.
I’ve tried so hard to overcome this sadness, but it still plagues me. I wonder what I’m doing wrong. Is there something I’m holding onto that keeps me from being happier? Is there something I’m doing that causes the sadness to linger? I don’t know. I don’t think so, but maybe I’m wrong.
There are days when it’s clear to me why God chose me for this life. For this illness. And then there are days when I have no idea why. There are days when I don’t understand why I’m sad so much of the time. I try not to let guilt pile on top of it, but it’s hard. I try not to fall in the ‘should’ trap. Because I should be happy.
But I’m not.
And I don’t know why.
And I don’t know if what I feel is a normal way for a Christian to feel or if it crosses the line into something unhealthy. I just know that I want to be with Jesus. More than anything. But at the same time, I have this awareness that my work here isn’t done, so it isn’t time.
Somehow I have to reconcile the sadness and the waiting. I don’t want to live a sad life. But I don’t understand happy people sometimes. How are they so happy? I don’t get it. I wish I did.
Oh, how I wish I did.