There’s a thunderstorm raging tonight. But that isn’t what’s keeping me from sleep.
It’s you. All of you.
Because I know you face your own storms. The ones that keep you up at night.
So I’m sitting in the bathroom with the polkadot shower curtain, crosslegged, on the laptop, atop a lime green boho rug (because if I was on the desktop computer in my office, the lightening would probably explode it and catch my hair on fire).
I’m awake because I know people in this world are hurting and struggling.
I can’t hold back the tears as the rain pours down.
Tears for those of you wrestling with the future. For the mothers who are exhausted and worn tissue thin. For the teens who’ve lost all hope for life. For the ones feeling like they’re losing friends or can’t find any. For the daughters and sons wrestling with family. For the rebels who haven’t quite found a way to live out your dreams. For the cashier facing divorce from a drug addicted husband whom she loves. For the tender souls living through loss of parents, spouses, and children. And for those of you with bright eyes and a joyful smile who still harbor a tiny fractured place in your hearts.
You are not alone.
But like Jamie Tworkowski says,
“The thing about the idea that you’re not alone is that it doesn’t do us much good if it’s just an idea. We have to do something with it. It’s like having no money and then someone hands you a check. You have to take it to the bank. You have to do something with it. Maybe hope is like that. Maybe community is like that. Maybe relationships are like that. We have to choose these things. We have to say they’re real and possible and important. We have to say some things out loud. We have to choose to believe our story matters, along with the stories of the people we love.”
I see it in your eyes. Hear it in your stories. It’s been a little hard. Whether the toughness is overwhelming your life or buzzing right below the surface mingled with the happy and the good – I see it there.
Not because we have the answers, advice, or the way forward but because we have ears. We have hearts. We have souls and vulnerabilities and stories too, that can connect us, bond us. There is restoration in being known.
So nothing fancy today. No “how to…”. No crazy simple recipe or clever ideas. Just four words that I hope you’ll take to heart, move you to connect with those around you, and tell them what keeps you up at night:
You are not alone.
Can we try this? This fellowship thing? Because it might just change our lives.