When hope breaks

Dear Lord

There’s things I never thought I would do. Feelings I never thought I would feel. Choices I never thought I would make. Moments I never thought I would live through. Places I never thought I would find myself in. Lost. Wondering how I got there and if I would ever find my way out. Wanting to talk to you. Needing to talk to you. But failing to bring myself to. Is one of them. And maybe the hardest of them all. 

Maybe because I’m not ready for the answer you might give. Maybe because I’m not ready to fully process what just happened. Maybe because talking about it will force me to feel the depths of the hurt. Maybe because saying it out loud will make it real in ways I’m not prepared to confront. Maybe because silence is the only thing holding me together right now. Maybe because naming it gives it a power I don’t want it to have. Maybe because avoiding it feels safer than breaking under the weight of it. Maybe because I have built walls so high that even I don’t know how to tear them down. Maybe because if I let it out it will consume me entirely.

Maybe because I am tired of heartbreaks. The ones I have prayed to you about since I was fourteen. Believing you are a God who answers prayers. Believing you are a God who fights for us. Believing in your saving grace. Believing that you are God of the suddenlys. A husband. A traumatic experience with the inlaws. A move from my hometown. A job that drained me more than it sustained me. And three kids later… Nothing. Still nothing. Uthule nje. Watching us break under this weight. And yet still nothing. I am feeling a million things that I do not want to name. Maybe because naming them will expose the shame buried beneath it all. Shame that whispers I should be stronger. Shame that tells me I have no right to question You. Shame that convinces me my heart should heal faster than it breaks. Shame that says my faith should be bigger than my doubts.

But can I? Am I allowed to feel disappointed by You? Because I think that’s what it is. I am disappointed. I expected more. I expected You to step in. I expected You to carry this load. I expected You to prove Yourself faithful in the ways I was taught to believe You would. Instead. I am here. Carrying prayers that feel unanswered. Holding onto faith that is fraying at the edges. Wondering if I was ever meant to hope this hard. Wondering if surrender means letting go. Or losing everything. Wondering if I asked for too much. Or not enough. Wondering if the answers I long for are ones I was never meant to hear. 

“Disappointments are inevitable; discouragement is a choice.” ~Charles Stanley

I am disappointed You let it happen. Under Your watch. I am disappointed I let the bitterness creep in. Filling the spaces where hope used to live. Under my watch. It is hardening parts of me I used to love. I hate the way I have started to flinch at softness. I hate the way I have learned to close myself off. I hate the way I have learnt how to build walls instead of bridges so effortlessly. Call me Engineer Lwandle haha. I hate that this is who I am becoming. I don’t know if I can stop it. Or if I even want to.

I still want to talk to you. Need to talk to you. But I am afraid. Things might just get worse. Maybe You won’t hear me at all. Maybe You’ll finally answer.

The love of your life

Lwandle