I hit bottom last night.
I’d woken up not feeling well from the night before, went to work and had a stressful twelve hours, had to stay late for reasons outside my control and, by the time I sat in the car, I was finished.
Everything just piled on. Every area of our lives felt like it is malfunctioning. We’re getting attacked on all fronts.
At these points you stop expecting something good to happen and worry about when the next bad news will hit.
I called Val as I drove home, my voice breaking with emotion. I felt like a boxer in the final round, the punches starting to hit home, and legs starting to give out.
After we ended our call I turned down the radio and prayed.
God can handle honesty, so I let it fly with every single What is Happening and Why Us question I could find, the pain, hurt and frustration flowing until tears blurred the tail lights of the cars in front of me.
There’s a point where you let go of every cultural reference, movie, book, conversation, influence, or resource that you know. You stop trying to find solutions, give up on logic and sit in silence.
Your heart and God. Creation and Creator.
I wish I could say I heard an answer and found a direction, that a sign fell from the sky and landed in the back seat of the car but it didn’t. The rest of the ride was silence.
And that’s okay.
Because it needed to come out and maybe that’s the point in silence. For God to pull down through the walls we build up as men, husbands, and fathers and draw out the emotions we work so hard to hide.
The truth will set you free. Even if its standing at the foot of the cross and pointing a finger to the sky in frustration.
At least you’re standing there.
As I type this, gratefully off from work for the day, Aiden is sleeping on the couch to my left. The house is quiet. The day is sunny and warm for November.
The breakdown of last night is still in my mind and I wonder what will happen today. How will things be different? There’s a cliché that the only constant force is change.
I’m praying that’s true because we can’t live in the brokenness. The wounds from ten years of struggling are too deep for too long and it is time to start moving again.
One step at a time.