May 30, 2020 – Avoidthemark.com
I swear I’m not virtue signaling with this post, but I feel like I need to preface it with that statement before I go any further.
This post comes from my heart. What I’m about to say is something I’ve seen many other people express publically in comments, and privately in emails and direct messages.
So I wanted to address it. Because I feel the same way.
This won’t be a long post.
Things are HARD
For the last few months, and especially more recently, every time I get on my knees to pray, I instantly begin crying.
It doesn’t matter what mood or state of mind I’m in before I reach out to our Father.
As soon as I call out to Him, I begin to cry.
With the bombardment of completely evil worldly activity we’ve been subjected to over the last few months, maybe this reaction is to be expected.
But it’s not my normal state of prayer.
It’s not my normal state of life.
I can’t help but to cry.
I cry for many reasons.
I cry for the state that the world is in. It just doesn’t seem “fair.”
I cry about what’s to come.
I cry because I feel very lonely in this battle against these enemies that are trying to destroy us.
I cry because my heart is broken for the younger generation that will never see a world with freedom and hope.
I cry for the older generation, who put so many years into trying to make a life within a system that they never knew was a lie.
I cry because the person I love from the depths of my heart doesn’t want to accept what happening right now.
I cry because I can’t be with her through all of this.
I cry because I miss her from the depths of my being.
I cry because I don’t even know the right way to pray in order to fix all of these things.
I cry because I don’t know if they’re supposed to be fixed. I really don’t know.
I cry while I write this, and I hope I edit it properly before publishing it. Because the tears are heavy.
I cry in the morning when I pray.
I cry at night when I pray.
I try to stay strong. I beg God for the strength that I need through all of this.
But I cry.
I hope I don’t regret writing this. I know I’m “supposed” to be strong. And I do feel God’s strength when I need it the most.
But when I call out to Him, I cry.
I don’t cry because I’m weak. I cry because I care.
And I feel like He is crying too.