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Given up…

These are the lies that I tell myself each and every day. This is my moment of honesty with you, the reader.

I’m +4 from moment of impact (four years past the divorce). I’ve grown more facial hair, lost more hair on my head, and discovered hair in my nose. This nearly defines the excitement of the years past. Recovering from a divorce isn’t easy, but it is possible. Incredibly, some memories really do begin to fade away. Sadly though, some scars never vanish. I still am hesitant about trusting a church with anything that’s closely associated with me, and I still struggle to maintain friendships. I’m still scared of the police and sudden noises nearly put me into a state of panic…every…time.

I’m still a mess. I’ve had highlights, but I’ve resigned from one job, fired from another, and absolutely ruinedy my own business.

Working with finances us difficult, and I’m still a poor example of a loving, leading husband. I live a life of wanting to run away from everything, and I still have no idea where I want to go.

Above all, I’m still terrified that God has forgotten about me, or…has given up on me. Sure, I know all the answers and truths that the Bible holds, but that doesn’t quench the fear that looms in my soul.

I battle jealousy every day, and I fail…nearly every day. I see people, families that are my age and I cringe at how messed up I am versus those who have it all sorted out. Part of me desires the squeaky clean, Jesus loving look of the modern, young family. Part of me cringe’s at the idea of that image. I’m in my late twenties and I’m completely lost. I’ve tried so many things, attempted many adventures, and in the year 2015 I can say that I still have no idea what I’m doing here.

I’m. Lost.


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