hanging and holding

I don't know why I'm always the most inspired to write blog posts when I most need to be doing other things. I guess because these days the few moments of energy I actually get are spent doing not only the things I need to be doing, but also the things I enjoy but have been neglecting because I simply haven't had the motivation or strength to do them-like blogging for instance.

This will be brief, and most elements of this blog will likely be fleshed out in more detail as I further process and wrestle through them. But as a backdrop, this semester has been extremely dark for me. Emotionally, physically, spiritually, relationally, academically-it's all been a huge huge struggle for me this year.

But here's what I've been so surprised about: how the most unexpected people have just come out of the woodworks to come alongside me during this time and simply be there. The most unlikely of people have been the ones who have been the most encouraging to me, whether by simply sitting with me, rubbing my back, giving me chocolate or by asking me tough questions and helping me process through things, or helping me study (even if they aren't in my classes) or by coloring pictures and watching Harry Potter with me. I feel like I have nothing in return for them, and yet they haven't asked anything of me. I've felt guilty for not being the friend I know they need, and yet they still love me and they still color with me and they still rub my back.

Why God, why to bless me with such rich friendship and community?

I've been a hard person to be around this semester and I know that. My friends and family who knew me last semester say I'm not the same person...and I'm not. I know some of them wish they knew how to be there for me, and I wish I knew how they could be. In some cases the things that once glued us together are simply not my priorities anymore, so conversation seems forced and artificial. In other cases they simply do not have the energy themselves and the relationship has simply disintegrated. To them I say, "please, don't give up on me yet. I have changed, I'm struggling, but in some ways I'm even growing. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've put so much pressure on you to be there for me when I was not there for you. And I haven't given up on you either."

Sometimes I feel as though I'm barely hanging on by a thread, clinging with all that is in me not to let go. But then I remember, it's not my job to hang on. Try as I may, I can never hold on tight enough but someone has already hung in my place, asking that I simply let go cling to the one who has been holding me all along. Praise Jesus, because I've never had the greatest upper body strength.