Do you feel like a failure in God’s eyes when you sleep each night? Then why is the deeprest of depression “bad”?
You’re so, sooo much bigger than your sadness. There’s plenty of room in the hugeness of who you are. Sadness won’t crowd out the rest.
…I can picture you getting on the floor, eye level with them as toddlers…
It’s the kind of fortitude and okayness that come only from soaking up the outpouring from a ripped open heart.
Love is a mess of romance and compassion. Compassion can remain.
Therapeutic tunnels promising greener grass succeed when they dump us back on the brown patch where we began.