It's a weird place for me because since I was about 15, no matter what happened, I fell back on Jesus and my faith and the knowledge that "All things work together for my good."
And then my sister died.
And there is no goodness in that.
Not for any reason.
It's fucking awful.
And so Jesus and I aren't friends right now.
And before you cast me aside, I want you to remember Jesus in the garden when He cried because He was alone or Jesus on the cross who asked why He had been forsaken.
You aren't forsaken by your friends.
You aren't forsaken even by people who you think love you.
In that moment, Jesus, felt forsaken. And right now, I do too.
I feel that way, but I know something different. I know because of the anchors in my life who refuse to let me forget. They cling tightly to me, no matter how chaotic things get, always reminding me that I am loved.
I can't see them and forget who Jesus is.
I can't feel their love and not know, even if I don't feel it, that He loves me.