Let's Not Talk About God

Let's not talk about God. I fully intend to not even begin to use "his" name as I write this. Whatever this will become - a published piece on my blog or an abandoned scribble - I hope to not use that name. Let me first put my cards on the table. Confession 1: I'm a Christian *gasp* close your mouth flies may get in. I drink, I smoke, fuck and shit are among my favourite words, I make highly questionable choices *stop it! Being a Christian isn't one of them* but it is what it is and I am what I am, it's actually none of your business. Confession 2: I'm going through something, not a devastating something but a situation that requires me to tell some hard truths to people I don't care to hurt. Confession 3: I have been so wrapped up in the dramedy that is my life that I'm writing this to centre myself and so some things you read here if you choose to continue will downright confuse you. Sorry... not sorry.

Okay so a whole lot of my friends have been going through stuff. Thinking about their pain right now is bringing tears to my eyes. I have deliberately been quiet. By quiet I mean sending messages to let them know they are loved but I've been saving my words. No bible verses have been quoted, no flowery prose has been penned by my skillful sword ; I have been quiet. I care and I care A LOT! It is this care that has been the major reason for my stillness. Why?  Because I want my friends to heal. I wish my friends wholeness I want my friends to look at these devastating moments that they are enduring right now, at some point in the future as their rebirth. I want my friends to learn their lessons ( not in that punitive accusatory way that we've grown to assign to lesson learning but in that calm, peaceful, victorious spirit kinda like the feeling you get when you pass a grade or get a degree ). I hope they find their way back to light. That darkness can be so stifling and imposing that a lot of us never leave it behind entirely, because we fear that the darkness is more powerful than us. It isn't. I know this, I haven't forgotten. I want my friends to seek their own definitions, to go down so deep in their pain to the point where they no longer fear. That was the lesson I learned. I let go of the fear and although it still comes back from time to time I've learned to recognise it and pounce on it with decisive action because I know I'm gonna be alright... I really wanna say that name but I'm gonna resist the urge.

My friend lost her son. My friend is watching disease eat away at his mother. My friend got retrenched.  My friend lost her mother. My friend's daughter got raped and left for dead. My friend has been diagnosed with clinical depression. My friend lost her husband of 3 months. My friends will weather these storms. My friends will come out braver in the end. My friends are loved. My friends are not being punished. My friends are seeking answers. My friends are seeking solace. My friends are looking to make the pain go away. My friends want peace. I know someone who has all this and more. I know him because I was in that place of darkness and I was completely taken under. He came and found me. I didn't find him at the prayer line. We didn't meet at the altar. He wasn't in the fever - pitched orations of zealous prayer groups. He was in the quiet. In the stillness. In the silence. I hope my friends find him too.