I wish it were easier to tell what in the world God wanted me to do with my life.
I wish my faith were stronger.
I wish writing that didn’t make my eyes well up with tears.
I wish I had a better idea what I am working towards.
Why I’m here.
What difference, if any, I’ll make.
I hate that I so often still feel like no one to everyone.
I hate that my husband came home and instead of giving me a hug, criticized the lunch I sent with him overnight.
Because I really needed that hug for no reason.
And I hate myself for it.
Because I know I used to be so much stronger than I am now.
Confidence stripped away by a series of unfortunate events that’s led me to question.
And everything I thought I was, and thought I knew…
It’s all gone.