"I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief;
if grows weak because of all my foes."
Psalm 6: 6,7
I've taken to reading the Psalms on the train while on the way to work and this morning I "happened upon" this particular passage. It resonated with me given what I've been going through these last few months since my move back to BC.
It's been hard. Very hard.
Which is why I've been quite silent.
Writing has always been quite therapeutic for me as I've used it as a medium to process the thoughts swirling through this head of mine; which is why I started this blog 7 years ago while I was living in Camden. This blog is a huge reminder of my years living in the east coast, which is why I haven't been writing. It still hurts. Even now, as I type, the tears are starting to well up. I continue to be in that Valley of Baka, where I continue to desperately cling to the hope that God will turn my weeping into springs to quench my thirst, bringing hope and healing in this desolate and dark place I am in.
Writing about saying my goodbyes the morning I left Philly, the drive across the country, and what this summer has actually been like, well, let's just say the grief is still very fresh and it would be like pouring salt into an open wound.
Maybe with time, I'll be ready.
