Hope is something that is a recurring theme in my life right now. The reality is, there is just a tiny pinhole of light in an otherwise dark time in my life, and that tiny pinhole of light is what keeps me going. I sometimes find myself feeling like there is nothing but darkness, but fabulous Noel and her hope quotes on Facebook keep directing me back to that little drop of light in the distance. The quote that sticks in my mind and pops into my head several times every day right now is the one that says “Hope is the feeling that the feeling you have isn't permanent." Knowing that this despair, pain, grief, and emptiness cannot last forever is the only hope I have right now.
I feel like a bucket that is always full to the brim, and dropping even just the tiniest thing in sends the tears rushing over the edge. I've always been a naturally emotional person anyway, but this is far beyond that. The thing I want the most is someone to hold me while I cry and to tell me that things will get better. But I'm still missing that, because the person who used to do that for me is gone. I don't know who should be filling that spot right now- I haven't figured it out yet.
I have been blessed by a few really good friends who are by my side as I make my way toward that tiny bright spot in the distance. They know who they are, and I hope they know how much I truly love and appreciate them.
In other ways, some things never change, though I hope they will. I still feel like I work hard at the things that I do and see very little difference for all of the hard work. I still wish that I was more talented at the things that I'm passionate about. I still desperately desire a family of my own. Only now, I sometimes feel like a failure and a disappointment because my mom never got to see me accomplish my dreams or find my greatest desires. My head knows that this is a lie, but my heart is cruel. This is the first time I've actually shared these thoughts- the ones where I feel like I let my mother down because I wasn't able to give her the grandchildren she wanted more than anything. Because I never got to prove to her that my dreams really could come true. Because I never got to take her to the places she wanted to see. And I never really got to take care of her instead of her taking care of me.
These thoughts have the potential to overtake me, to drown me. The only thing I can do is keep clinging to my life raft and hope that the storm will calm down soon so I have a chance to swim back to solid ground. There is hope in knowing that ten years ago, the person I was could not have survived this storm. The person I was ten years ago didn't have a life raft to cling to- the person I was ten years ago did not have Jesus. That is hope.
