It's a rainy evening in May. Your sister's laying in front of you in her hoodie and blanket while you're here typing at your laptop, sweating on your forehead and in other places. You're sitting here typing, thinking of what to write, what to say, and at that moment it dawns on you.
You take a look at where you've come from. How far you have come. Your days of doubting yourself and doubting yourself. Your days of crying yourself to sleep and waking up with tears in your eyes. Your days of losing your jobs one after the other because you weren't stable enough to handle them. You look at how far you've come and you are indeed grateful.
You will not tell a lie. You will not sit here and tell them that your faith stayed intact. You will not sit and tell them that there have not been nights where you have screamed at God, nights where you have smiled ever so stoically, your eyes devoid of any emotions and you told whoever tried to reconvert you that you were done with that life for now. If they didn't have the answers to the questions you asked, they shouldn't try to tell you to believe. If they had not had everything they held dear, and when you said everything, you meant everything, if they had not had everything they held dear snatched away from their young innocent palms if they had never been in your shoes, then they should not try to tell you things you already knew. The things you had once even preached.
You will not tell a lie. You will not tell them you stopped thinking about God but you will not tell them you did not stop talking to Him. You will not tell them that you still believe that all things are working for your good even when the person that sang that song only did because unlike you, God came through for Him. You will not sit here and tell them that HeCallsMeLight still steers this ship. You will not lie to them.
But you will not lie to yourself either and say you don't feel Him. You will not lie to yourself and say you no longer believe in Him, because the truth is, you do. When the rain falls and the wind whistles, you feel Him, you feel His presence still at work in you. You will not lie to yourself and say you will not be reunited with your Father. You will not tell yourself you have shut that door off completely because the truth is you haven't. You cannot. An overthinking thinker like you would only unalive herself if she had nothing to hold on to. So, yes, you still believe. You're just figuring things out, taking slow steady steps back unto the path you have once walked.
So, here you are, by past 6pm on a rainy Saturday evening, feeling grateful for all you have, and all there is to come. And for now, maybe just for now, that is worth writing about.