When I see everyone in their own little groups, or best friends walking home after school, when the aching loneliness threatens to destroy my very soul,
I try to remember.
God gently nudges me and says “Remember, Hannah-I made this day. And I love you, you’re beautiful, never forget that I am all you need.”
It’s so hard when I’m standing alone, or I sit by myself on the bus ride home.
How did I get this way-so quiet and pale? There is no holy hunk to ride off into the sunset with, I am all alone it seems-and love is just a myth.
I used to be so lively, happy, and so respectfully opinionated. Now I am so bitter, tired, and life is ove .
I used to love the outdoors, now I hardly go outside; my skin is pale as the moon, I could be mistaken for being dead.
Sometimes I think I am.
Then the old fire rekindles, if only for a moment; and I order the Shadow to leave-and only for a moment it cowers in fear and then it is back again, stronger than ever.
It beats me to the ground, again and again; every time I try to rise. And it gets harder and harder to disguise the pain I feel inside; it gets harder and harder to act like I’m all right.
I so want to give up, but I can’t let myself go. I can’t retreat into that world, never to come back-I won’t go there, that silent place, where there is only black.
“HELP ME!” I scream to the One True King, and He comes, and rescues me.
I rest in His arms as He speaks to me, gives me hope. I’ll be alive again because of Him-but maybe I was never dead.
Just lonely.
So lonely.
But now I’m free. He rescued me.

 

By Hannah Rose