Admitting To The Dark Places.

A few days back one of my sweet cousins texted me in panic. “Pray”, she wrote, “My friend has a history of pain and depression and he’s missing. They can’t find him.” I immediately responded that I would, even though God and I were having a little bit of a spat and I didn’t feel like talking to Him (well I was spatting, God was doing whatever it is God does when I am being ridiculous).

Shortly after receiving the text, I was in my car on my way home from work; sunglasses on, breeze on my face, sweating hamstrings sticking to the leather seats of my RAV4. I was very aware of all of my senses; the fact that I was alive, experiencing so many things all around me. So many things in life are beautiful.

But sometimes life is too much. I think of my cousin’s dear friend. Ive known that feeling all too well in my lifetime. Sometimes life is too much. Sometimes there seems like no way to escape the aches that settle deep within ourselves. The ache to run away is strong, urgent, unwavering. Sometimes it feels like there is no other option. 

For those of us who carry the burdens of the world like an infant at our chest, life is never easy. When we are not carrying our own burdens, we are limping with the weight of someone else’s. We are overwhelmed with joys, and crushed with pains. We live life in extremes that both energize and unravel us. A gift that can be hard to navigate.

I cannot stop thinking about my cousin’s friend. The loneliness he must feel navigating a world that doesn’t see everything that he sees, or feel everything he feels. I know that loneliness, as many of us do. What if he knew that? What if he knew he isn’t alone.

I love raw vulnerability. It’s like water for my soul. But it is terrifying when it’s your own raw vulnerability, your story out in the world for everyone to see, your heart strung out on the clothesline.

But this is important friends. We don’t need to tidy up our lives, we need to bring them messy. Come as we are. 

Earlier today my cousin texted me that her friend had been found. He had checked himself into a hospital to get help for his depression. I don’t even know him, but I am so proud of him. So proud of his rawness, his strength, his acceptance of who he is. “Tell him that he’s not alone,” I texted my cousin, “make sure he knows that he is not alone.”