I do not want to give in to my crying. I suffer from migraine as a result, but I choose the pain rather than the tears. Who would want to look at me when I am sad and lost?
I have an interior life which I try to face through a more intimate prayer time, and it's bringing me to a point of recognition of my brokenness. It is so different from my physical world - of friends and family surrounding me everyday. It doesn't show much, I hope, that I am walking through all my internal struggles, in search of a firmer relationship with God. That is my ultimate goal that's why I'm enduring this retreat instead of quitting after it got too uncomfortable. I'm keeping my daily routine. I work, I relate, I chat, I eat. I cannot sleep that much and I prefer long periods of silence.
When alone, I talk to God and bring to Him all of my deeply-buried questions. But the answers are too difficult. I cannot cry even when I'm alone anymore. It's as if I feel it is a waste, and a sign of weakness. I used to be able to cry unabashedly before the small altar in my room. These past few weeks of RDL, I have stopped myself after a few tears.
Is this normal? Am I being too depressed by these reflections? I should be lifted up and should experience peace and joy, right? How come, even with all my efforts, I still feel the enormity of my discipleship, the loss of what I did not have, the challenge of my uncertain future? The answer might be that I need not try too hard, I know. But what I know and what I experience are two different things right now.
As an expression of faith I will declare here that I believe that God will lift me up at the right time, and that this journey through the dark valleys of my heart is just a part of it. I will spread my wings, lift my head, and soar again someday.
Tonight I will admit that I am ashamed of my own brokenness, and I depend on God to make me feel whole again.
Tomorrow is one step closer to that day of flight, of freedom, of love.