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It’s December again. The winds are howling, the snow is blowing, and I realized that I completely forgot I have a blog.

Oops.

My clothes are waiting for me to put them away. There is a bridesmaids dress sitting on the end of my bed that should be hung up. I need to read my Bible and brush my teeth and get to bed on time.

I am at a loss, though. It’s one of those points where I know there’s nothing I can do. Where all of me wants to be somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else, but that’s just…not happening right now. And as much as all of me, ALL OF ME, wants to be there, I know I can’t. I won’t for awhile, if ever. I’m tired and emotional. Secular songs make me cry because I’m sick of trying to change their meaning into something that would apply for me. Christian songs make me cry because I’m having a hard time believing the truths they so cheesily and loudy proclaim. Praying makes me cry, because I know I’m failing Him, and talking to Him reminds me of that. Silence makes me cry, because I feel very alone. So I’m basically always crying in the car.

And I try to come up with multiple reasons behind where I am. Ones that explain why. Most of them are plausible and possible. A lot of them make me feel better.

But none of them are true.

The truth is the hardest to believe. That I don’t know why. That I won’t know why. And that I just have to keep going on, doing what I guess I’m supposed to be doing, somehow pushing aside daydreams and hopes and desires. And just do what I have to do.

And I know He’s good. That this is supposed to happen. That He is intentional and purposeful.

But I still cry when I get in the car.

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