this journey is indeed a strange one.
sights, sounds, sensory input that, though i may have experienced these things in another way-at another time-during another part of the journey, do such a wonderful job of flooring me and dizzying me over and over again. experiences that make me want to simultaneously recoil while also getting excited at the prospect that, maybe, just maybe this time it’ll be different.
i feel myself screaming at myself to withdraw into a closed-up posture, while my mind tells me to sit in that awkward moment of discomfort and just soak it in, because i know it’s only my brain playing tricks on me and i’m no longer the person i once was, i will no longer react to that stimuli the way i used to. gripping onto a shaky foundation with bare-faced, white-colored knuckles, wanting so much to reach the end of all this so i can look back and ask God, “So this was it? This is why you lead me through those valleys?”
it’s not the end. i can’t discern the end. i can’t see what’s gonna happen next. that’s probably why everything feels so unsettling and confusing in the current season. and, again, i’ve been here before. that overpowering anxiety of feeling like i’m losing my grip on something, though really i never had it in the first place. learning to have peace. be okay. Be okay, this quiet voice whispers to me. Is that you, God?
can i please just sit in peace with myself, claiming who i am and who i was created to be, and being okay with all of that? as brené brown says, that i can go to bed at the end of each day knowing that i am worthy simply because of who i am and not because of what i have failed or accomplished that day?
that no matter what, it will all be okay in the end, and I will be okay in the end.
because i am loved. because i may not know, but He knows. that this journey, though it may be a strange journey with moments of confusion and dizziness and restlessness, will ultimately end at the exact place where i am supposed to be, in a better version of myself.