I’ve felt darkness wrap around my soul. I’ve tasted despair in quantities so great, I could not breathe. I’ve felt alone and unworthy. Carried guilt for miles, with only shame for company. I know what it feels like to long for oblivion. To welcome the blank nothingness. To want to let go. To simply cease to be; to not feel. So weary of feeling; of feeling so damn much.
It was always a small voice that drew me back. A flicker of some tiny light that pierced the fog. Little by little it drew me back. It didn’t have a name, yet it grew. Burned brighter. It warmed. It comforted. Soothed my battered soul. I could breathe again. Feel again. It seemed such a simple thing. But I know it now. See and feel it all around me. Carry it with me. It’s called hope. It’s born when faith is all that’s left. When surrender is all you have. It comes the instant you fall. The second your knees hit the floor. The moment your eyes lift. The moment your arms reach. Hope finds you.
Four Weeks: A Journey from Darkness. Available now on Amazon.
© 2019 Jennifer Nelson Fenwick