I feel plagued with existential questions. It gets a bit overwhelming to keep jumping down existential rabbit holes and teetering the edge of losing sight of hope and purpose and therefore, crisis.
I didn’t think my faith was this fragile, but I also have compassion for myself for having these questions and being in a bit of a faith crisis. My faith only got on solid ground about a year ago, and before that it was practically non-existent.
I keep talking to you like you’re there, K**. I desperately hope you are. At the same time, how can it be that God let this happen? That He knew this was coming, that His plan is good? How? And if God doesn’t exist, then does your spirit? Are you here with me? Are you watching as all these tears keep coming? How do I stop the anxious existential thoughts?
You’d give me a hug on Wednesday at 9am and tell me I’m right where I’m supposed to be and I would believe you because you’d say it in such a genuine way. I just…. I need to hear your voice. I need it to be you sitting across from me, reassuring me I’ve got this.
I need the deafening silence to cease when I pray for a sign that God is with me or you are with me. 💔