Wednesday, June 29, 2016

dear fifty year old me

i'm seven now.  still surviving.

i can't see you.  i don't know you.

i want you to be there.  somewhere in the future.

i want to help you make it.  but sometimes all i can do is to barely keep breathing.

i can't give up.  i can't give in.  i can't accept that this is all there is.  life can't all be this vile.  this painful.  this frightening.  this sad.

i can tell you that i believe god is real.  that's about all i know for sure.

god is real.

jesus is real.

he knows.  knows all.

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