I haven’t written in a while.
I actually haven’t done anything in a while.
I spent the past two years in hiding, feeling lonely, suffering from an invisible disease.
If you asked me two years ago what my plans for the next two years were I would have given you a long list. I would have had plans and dreams, mostly unrealistic but still mine. I would have told you about all the blessing that were going to come my way. I would have named all the people I was going to meet or spend time with. I would have described all the travels I hoped to journey through. I would have giggled and made silly faces talking about the future. Future was always good in my books. It was always full of God’s blessings.
I didn’t know that my next two years weren’t going to go well. I didn’t know that I was going to become a shadow of a girl that used to be and I didn’t know, nor I could have known that God was going to go to an extreme to open my heart for his love once again.
In October two years ago I got engaged. How could have I possibly thought that those magical words ‘Would you marry me?’ were going to be one of the last sweet memories of the person I then was. Full of light and giggle. Skipping instead of walking. Hamming songs about forever happiness.
I haven’t been this person for a while. I haven’t giggled nor skipped. I haven’t danced. I haven’t bough silly ruffly skirts and I haven’t blown bubbles just to see them bounce of the grass. I haven’t made many new friends nor I have kept in close touch with those I already have. I haven’t done yoga, swam, wore a tank top in public. I haven’t looked up to the skies and said ‘for all those blessings I am thankful’.
I haven’t lived in the past two years.
I coexisted with people and objects that surrounded me. I worked, made it to my doctor appointments, shopped for bigger and bigger clothes while my body grew and grew. I haven’t read any books that make me happy, instead I’ve researched any possible cure for my disease. Except there aren’t any.
For two years I lived a life of a broken person. Keeping strong faith and hoping that God was going to take me away from where I was. He was going to save me. And when I finally end up standing at the edge of a cliff looking up into the sky and begging for love and change, He came through with one little miracle that was going to change my life. One short lived miracle that He took away as quickly as He gave it to me. And He pushed me off the cliff. And there I was, with nothing left. My faith dried out, my anger grew. I had nothing to lose or gain. Nothing to pray for. Nothing to dream about. Nothing besides a very dull, empty pain. Silence in my soul.
And then He spoke to me. First came a whisper. Three words that were stuck in my head on a repeat. Like a broken record. Getting louder and clearer. With no meaning. I followed. And with that came more words. A stranger speaking a message from Him. A stranger that said words she could not possibly come up with on her own. She didn’t know me how could have she known about me. And another stranger. And then a paper sign. And another stranger who used the same exact words that the first one did. Neither knowing what they just said to me. Neither knowing that God used them to speak to me. I was silent, He was loud.
I listened. I understood.
I know that no matter what the next two years will bring I will look back to these very few weeks and know that this is when a profound change happened in me. My strength was restored. Faith once again filled my heart. The giggly sound came out.
I haven’t felt this joy in over two years. I haven’t … but from now on I will.