It Won't Always Be Like This

This goes out to the women at their breaking point. The women who are suffocating in their sorrow. The women who are tired of sad nights and the taste of salty tears. The women who are steadily trying to escape from [something/someone/someplace] with nowhere to escape to. This one is for the women who would be reaching for the stars had their high hopes not been weighed down by disappointment and depression; the women whose burdens have become too heavy to bear. To the women who have lost sight of the greater that is coming; the women who can't see the light through the fog. 

This goes out to the women trying to desperately free themselves from the bondage of bad situations; the women who are tired of watering dead flowers. This is for the women who are buried in bad news. The women who can't stand to check their phones, e-mails, or social media. Perhaps, this is for the women who are watching everyone around them grow, but them. The women whose hope is dwindling as days pass; the women whose joyous mornings seem nonexistent after a full night of weeping.

This goes out to the women whose dreams have been diminished by cloudy days; the women who don't have an umbrella for the rain. This is for the women who despise their jobs, homes, relationships and everything in between; the women who have fallen on hard times. The women who are struggling financially, professionally, personally, relationally, spiritually, emotionally, and/or mentally. This is for the women who want to run free; the women who have planned for the marathon but never really prepared. This is for the women whose sadness comes from not knowing how, why or when. The women who are trembling in their troubles. The women who are fearful and faithless. The women whose soundtrack would sound more like Evanescence's "My Immortal" than Pharrell's "Happy".

To the women who are hopeless, sad, disappointed, worried, afraid and broken. To the women who've already given up. To the women whose palms are sweaty from holding onto hell for so long. This goes out to the women whose pain has become numbing; the women who fall out of bed because they can't feel their legs to walk this journey any longer; to the women who don't even want to open their eyes. This one is for the women with damaging love stories and dead-end jobs. The women with empty bank accounts and emptier vision boards. To the women who have nowhere to go and no one to call.

It won't always be like this. 

Greater is coming. Joy is coming. Peace is coming.

It is at the brink of your breaking point that your blessings pour in. It is at the fountain of frustration that revelation occurs. It is at the saddest moments of your life that you learn to appreciate true joy. 

Keep fighting. Keep 'faithing'. Seek comfort in the things that you do have and what you have accomplished. Find joy in knowing that you're not who you once were and you won't remain where you currently are. Remind yourself of the many times God has gotten you through; the times He saved you from sinking low in your bathtub in your attempt to wash the remnants of disappointment and depression from every inch of your body. Remind yourself of the time your glass was half full, before you ran out of wine. Think back to the last time you went through and how you managed to come out. 

Just like last time, this isn't it.

This isn't your last moment nor your end-all-be-all. This isn't the first day of for the rest of your life, nor is it the last. Although you can't see them now, better days are ahead; your life is shifting and things are turning around. Believe that. Know that no matter how much pain you're enduring now, your load will lighten. 

God may not remove the bags, but he'll strengthen you enough to hold them. Hold true to the fact that being so far at the bottom, you can only go up. You can only be lifted up. Your journey is beautiful. Your heartache and stagnancy is life-changing. Your character is strengthening. And your tomorrow, although seemingly the same, will be far more progressive than today.

Life is not about your final destination, but about your journey. The sometimes strenuous, sometimes sad, sometimes gut-wrenching journey. 

Embrace that journey.

Remain steadfast and acknowledge that there is a light at the end of your tunnel. There is life above the ground you dug that hole into. There is sunshine after the storm. You will reach your peak and get to where you need to go but while you're in the midst of it, accept the lessons. You'll thank yourself for it later. You'll thank the journey. You'll thank your hard times and watery eyes; you'll thank the deaf ears you spoke to and the pessimists you spoke with. 

You'll thank yourself for fighting. Your better is right around the corner. Even if you have to crawl, get there. Hold on for one more month, one more day, one more hour.

Flowers bloom from rain; you will, too. Greater is coming — greet it at the door.

“Dear Friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.” — 1 Peter 4:12-13