At least to mine.
It has been a long time since I actually put what I really feel inside into writing. It is a crazy resolution not to chronicle or immortalize my thoughts for fear of being read or judged or ridiculed. (Three sentences later, I am willing to give up on this entry)
I must have fallen out of love with words. Or they with me. In any case, I struggle to bring my thoughts out unabashedly like I used to. I am back to the process of convincing myself that I can write.
My joyless existence begins. Lord, please end it. The joylessness, I mean. Not the existence. Yet. Hehe.
It's life's valleys that scare me; as if I have to try harder to reach God but then it is He who holds out to me. Then I remember that in trying times, there is joy in suffering because the Lord will always lend His hand to hold. I keep forgetting that His presence is not based on what I feel. His presence is based on who He is and who He says He is. And I trust that, feeling or no feeling.
