Love

I'm gonna be honest with you, internet. February has sucked.
And I mean sucked. hard.

In the past 2 weeks, I have packed my life, given away my beloved dog, left my work comfort zone, moved away from the south and my family, into a brownstone in a mid-west city.

Alone.

Before I moved here, I joked that when I told people I was moving to Missouri, they inevitably asked..."Why? Do you know someone there?"

My answer was, of course, yes I do. But not that's not why I'm moving. Seriously, I don't know why I moved. I couldn't tell you.

But I know whatever the motive, it has been a hard move. I have cried almost my entire time here. And I realized something last week...gripping and hurtful.

I don't accept love. I try to earn it. And I don't know how to love others.

And it feels like my insides are being ripped out. Honestly.

For almost 2 years, I have been trying to make someone love me who doesn't value me enough to meet me in person.

And it's not just him.

Before him, it was him.

And before him, it was him.

And before him, it was them.

And in the middle of all the hims and them, there is God.

I've been trying to make Him love me too. But I honestly don't believe He does either.

Not any more than the hims or them.

I am tired. Tired and overwhelmed with it all. So I am giving up.

There is something broken in me. Least of all, my heart. It needs to be fixed.

But I don't know where to start.

I guess I start here.

A couple of days ago, I was at work chatting on instant messenger with a co-worker guy I've never talked to. He sent me a message asking about my "boycotting Valentine's Day" icon and we joked about the holiday. He said his day was great due to easy mac and a chocolate snack pack for lunch. I laughed and told him there aren't many things in life that can't be fixed by chocolate pudding.

When I arrived at my desk yesterday, I found a Valentine's card and a chocolate snack pack he had "delivered" from Chicago.

Amazingly sweet. from someone I don't even know.

I left work and went to the Lee's for dinner, which has become routine. I walked in and noticed the most beautiful flowers on the table. Sterling silver roses. My favorite. I thought they were Lyra's.

They were mine.

Amazingly sweet. from people who know me. but love me anyway.

At least, they say they do. And right now, I am choosing to believe them.

Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul

Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel

But oh, When gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call Thee mine
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust
And still my soul would cleave to Thee
Though prostrate in the dust

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face,
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace,
Be deaf when I complain?
No still the ear of sovereign grace,
Attends the mourner's prayer
Oh may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there

Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet,
Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet

Anne Steele (1716-1778)