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Are we of the same kind? Kindred souls linked by highs and lows that furrow the brows of those who love us… Did you feel it, the quicksand of aspiration that first has you exalting and then drowning, your cries buried deep inside, deep inside where no one but you can hear and that four-lettered word, “help” seems nonsense.

But you are gone now, so the question is were we the same, not are we. Some of us cut our wrists to bleed for peace, others leave our cars on and shut up our screams by breathing in fumes. “Why?” is the question pounded out by typing fingers everywhere, but the tragedy is this hole we cannot fill.

We were never meant to.

Deep inside there is a space that threatens me with its yawning, smacking mouth. To be swallowed by despair, to allow myself to be lost inside its cavernous emptiness and leave my loved ones mourning with “whys” upon their lips and minds. It is hope I long for, but like all who ride the waves of highs and lows, I misinterpret where I should place my hope. I forget my need for an anchor and I find myself dashed against the rocks.

Like a hand from God, my husband, family and my friends reach out. Linked by prayer they pull me safe aboard, and Christ is my anchor, keeping us safe through this storm. I do not sense when the anxiety will rise or when the despair will overwhelm. I must be vigilant to pray, meditate and memorize His Word. I must extend to others the mercy given me, for there are others out in the storm, trying to weather this storm alone.

I must tell of my only true hope.

For further meditation:
John 3, Psalm 27, Psalm 42-43, Hebrews 6:19-20