Over time, I have gone from chasing light from behind the shadows to seeking peace amidst the moments in between.
A dichotomy of sorts, these moments. How is it possible to find peace while [your other] one fights the recidivism of addiction. The moments in between are spent half bracing for the other shoe to drop and the other being lulled to sleep by one more glimpse of hope, or shall I say, mirage of hope?
With every thought or attempted reasoning one can muster, its like a broken record spinning in circles. And so we repeat.. I did not cause this, I cannot control this, and I cannot cure this. And so we pray again and again for our loved one until there are no longer any prayers left to be said.
I think it is here where we finally surrender. Even the prayers seem to be our own voices masquerading as prayer.
It’s madness. We pray and respond with our own voice.
Finding rest in the dichotomy of one longing for the moments in between, all the while it is these very moments that brace themselves for shoes to drop and change hoped for, but never seen, is often times more despair than I can handle.
Yet this is the call. This is sweet surrender upon the highest of ledges. This is faith in an unseen which holds the power to all things that are seen.
I am weary because it is I who carries these moments in between as if they were merely burdens, yet in a brief moment of perspective, perhaps rather instead, they’re actually blessings?
But then I ask, which is the enabler and which is not? Which is the codependent and which is not?
I am tired. But this is no mirage. It can’t be. Is this really the call?