still running

It didn't seem real, but it was. It was very real.

Moving here had stripped me from every comfort I had wrapped myself in over the last four years. Upon my arrival I felt myself standing naked before strangers, begging for clothing of any sort to wrap myself in, but none within reach. The harder I tried to cover myself, the more uncomfortable I felt. Though I found pieces of cloth here and there to cover my shame, they weren't pieces of cloth that I recognized and they didn't comfort me the way familiarity does.

Worn out and tired from the journey, stripped of everything I knew and loved, and covered in someone else's clothing, the discomfort became too much and I quickly started to feel myself collapse.

I fell and I fell hard. I broke every bone on the way down. The bones that had guarded my heart shattered and every bit of my heart shattered along with them. I lay on the ground appearing lifeless to those around me. I was aware I was still breathing, but I couldn't yell for help. I couldn't even speak. Not even a whisper. I could sense people all around me, people I knew who came to help me, but no one could do anything. No one knew what to do. If they moved my broken body, I might die. If they left me there on my own, I might die. I felt someone lean in to put their ear to my mouth. I heard them ask "how can I help?" as they listened closely, even desperate, for me to answer. In my mind I was screaming and yelling, begging them to pick me up and take me in their arms, but nothing came out of my mouth. I lay there, lifeless, on the ground, surrounded by so many people, but so alone.

How could they not know what I needed? How could they just stand there? Why won't they help me? Why can't they fix this? Panic set in and my breaths got shorter and shorter. The worry began to make my head hurt, so much so I thought it would explode. Anger set in and I began to hate the people around me. I hated them for standing there. I hated them for not being able to fix me. I hated them for not holding me. The hate consumed every pain I had previously felt and my body went numb. Hatred stopped the feeling of pain, so I held onto it for a while. I held onto it until I realized that hatred stopped the feeling of everything. I didn't want to let it go because I didn't want to feel the pain again, but there was a faint memory of something good that I longed for. Something good that I knew hatred couldn't give life too. That word... "Life"... that's what I needed, but it seemed so far away, the memory of it so faint.

I let go of the hatred and the pain came back tenfold. Those same people around me, that same voice asking "how can I help?" and yet they could do nothing. It hurt even worse because I knew they couldn't help me, but I loved them anyway. Loving them... it made it hurt more. It hurt more because I knew I had to let them go too. The hatred wasn't going to numb the pain, and they were going to heal it. I had to let go of the hope I had put in them to fix me. But I loved them, how could I possibly let them go? I clenched tighter and tighter to the ones that I loved, and the tighter I clenched the more it hurt.

I heard something. It sounded like a whisper... "let it go."

I violently shook my head no.

"let it go."

Tears began to stream down my face.

"let it go."

For the first time since I collapsed, I was able to let out how I felt inside and what sounded like shrieking began to come out of my mouth. On and on I cried aloud, but even above my cries, I heard the whisper...

"let it go."

My broken body, though unable to move, was still able to hold on for dear life what it didn't want to lose.

"JJ. Let it go."

My crying began to slow. My breathing followed. I looked at my arm stretched out on the ground and I could see my hand still clenched tight.

With tears streaming down my face, I slowly began to loosen my grip. Before I knew it, my hand was open...

and I finally felt at peace.

I breathed the last breath I had in me and I let it all go. I let everything go.

I gave up.

Everything was dark, but it was still. It was quiet. It was calm.

I felt breath that wasn't my own begin to fill my lungs. I felt a presence all around me, but it wasn't any of the people who had been there before. My bones were no longer broken. My heart was completely whole, without the slightest crack or bit of evidence it had ever been harmed. I felt someone or something lift me and without any effort of my own I began to stand on my own two feet.

I started to walk, and in which direction I don't know because it was still dark, but I just kept walking. I didn't have a care or concern in the world of what might happen, so I started running. I felt weightless and I began to feel overjoyed as I ran. It had been so long since I'd run towards something, and it felt good. I didn't even know what I was running towards, but I knew it was good, and I knew I was taken care of.

And this is where I find myself... still running. Yes, it is still dark and so much is unknown, but I am running with a peace and a joy knowing that I need not worry about the dark. I need not worry about what I run into. I need not worry about what lays ahead.

I run because a weight has been lifted. I run because my body has been healed. I run because my cup overflows and I no longer need to worry about what spills or stains. And I run because I no longer fear that which once broke me. It is in the brokenness that I have found restoration, and in the restoration I have found life again.

Without much sight of what surrounds me, I run carelessly into the care of He who is healing me.