i am a slave
to your touch.
My favorite time of the day is during sunset — when it’s already getting dark but the light seems to be fighting back.
I am more than okay. I will have to say that I’ve come a long way to be able to articulate that not just to you but to myself.
Turn back to months ago, I was not okay. I was really bad at being damaged goods. The constants in my life made it perfectly clear that I needed to allow myself to not be okay for a while. But I’m stubborn and hard-headed, both of which are really good at clouding your vision. I couldn’t see the cracks in my smile and the sadness in my own eyes through the blurry film of my own self-preservation. I swore that I was okay, and I went about everyday hoping that attitude of denial would some how make me better. Okay, even.
So, areal breaking needed to happen.
As the days progressed, outbursts of sorrow and anxiety attacks became more frequent. God allowed me to continue tucking away all the not-okay-ness that I wasn’t giving to Him until my rib cage couldn’t contain it anymore. I cannot say when exactly, but at one point, my chest swelled to a breaking point and I felt all the heartache, all the anger, sorrow and pain in one grand finale to the requiem of my own self-deception. I wanted to cry, scream, jump, grovel, mourn, fight, sleep, run, etc. All of those things, if I had only come to terms with not being okay, would not have come all at once. All these different pieces needed to be put in order and under obedience to the One who can see the grander picture of this puzzle.
Shambles. Never really thought much of the word until that season. I was not okay. I was such a liar if I said that I was. After that incident, when people would ask how I was doing, I could finally easily say, “I’m not okay. But God is good.” That attitude, the one that says that “God is good,” actually did make it better. Mostly because it is true. He is good. So good.
Piece by piece, he is putting me back together. I am in repair. Yes, I will be in repair for a while. But I have made it a habit to remind myself that He is good. All that He does is perfection. I guess, I just need to rest in His perfecting hands until I see Him face to face. That whole “awake in His likeness” thing sounds pretty legit.
I am more than fine. My God is good and He will never let me go. With that, I am more than okay.
It’s difficult to tell when exactly it began.
We planned ahead and clung so tightly to what we think is certain. At this point, this was the best it was going to be. You are as good as it would ever get, and I trained myself to deny any other. Any other feeling towards any other thing that was not you was foreign to me. In surveying all that I knew— your face, your movements, your voice, your smile, your warmth, your strength, your weaknesses— I mapped out how the rest of our lives would play out. I was on a set course.
We are young and hopeful to the point of dreaming. I read little coincidences as stars aligning and constellations to keep my bearings. As I continued to dream and aspire for our own shore, there was no sign of landing in the horizon.
No amount of armament could prepare me for the turbulent seas and privateers. After warning signs and sirens, I was left in shambles and in a hopeless and tireless state of repair. All the weight that we gave permission to come aboard only brought us to the inevitable. So, I sank.
Well, we grew up. Thank God, we grew up. We awoke to see one another with more love than ever before. It was the kind of love that understood that if we did not beach this ship, we would capsize. If we did not run aground, we would be lost at sea.
The Watch Keeper has wiped the slate clean.
I realized that things will be weird between us for a while before it becomes not weird. I will wait that while. Until then, we will sail for our own infinitude. We’ll be infinite. There will come a day, I am certain, when we push aside the weirdness and exchange our seafaring stories.
Exhale. Take as much time as you want. Give your heart the things it needs to heal. Be patient with yourself. You’ll get better.
The Sunday bunch outtake photos