Validation

A million times over, I have wished my brother to return. To magically appear in front of me, flesh and blood... REAL...

And a million and one times I am disappointed to open my eyes and grapple with the fact that he is not now nor will he ever return to this earth with a heartbeat.

Today is one of those days that I am struggling silently with grief and hope. I miss my brother so bad, that I am sure the tears that are falling are tears of blood- having exhausted all of it's water, my body is pouring my life from my very eyes.

Of course it's not, but this is how it feels. 

 Like a slowly sinking Titanic, I am drowning in my own life.

Ryan was the biggest source of validation in my life. The only one to ever tell me "good job" without the "but" on the end.

Ryan, in his own crazy way, was a life raft sent straight from Heaven to keep me afloat. Ryan "got" me. He understood our parents. He knew just what to say to me, when no one else in the world who ever thought that they knew me, could. He knew how I worked, and how I interpreted things. He humored me when I was emotional. In a very real sense, he was a part of me.

Without him, there seems to be a hallow and uncertain void. A bleakness to life.

It feels like I am walking through the wilderness.

In my own head, this bleak despair is compounded by isolation.

No one "gets" me, now.

No one understands the grief, or knows what to say.

But One.

 

As God watched from the Throne, His very Own Son was nailed by my sin to the cross.

And to comfort me, He rose His Son from the emptiness.

From the abyss, to give me hope in a future with Him.

 

Hope.

That word sounds so small compared to the tragedy of mental illness and suicide.

Hope.

The word speaks volumes to every situation, every trial, and every loss.

Hope.

The single syllable is etched forever in the hearts of the Believer, a foundation for a faith in God.

Without hope, there is no future, faith, or freedom from the consequences of sin.

I am a prisoner to hope, refusing to believe it is not there. Clinging to every letter, to keep even just the top of my head from sinking.

 

So when you see me cry, don't turn away and shun my sadness.

Let me spill these tears of hope, tears of grief, and tears of unwavering faith in a God who loves even the most broken in all the world.

And if you are brave, tell me that you have this hope too.

 

--Julie--