Sometimes I write from a positive perspective because it helps me stay afloat, reminds me to keep my eyes up, and gives me some sort of a sense of hope. I talk about freedom, newness. But to be honest, life does not feel very hopeful. I’m overwhelmed and lost much of the time. I’m hellbound for eternity and purposeless on earth. How can I be found?!
Several nights this week I’ve cried myself to sleep. I cleaned our home the other day and picked up a scrap of wrapping paper left over from my mom’s gifts to my baby girl. I lost all emotional strength. I replayed my mom burying her face in her hands to cry in excruciating grief as she lamented over being separated from me for all eternity while I will be tormented in hell. Her pain. I feel sooooo responsible for it. Guilty.
Then I picked up the book she gave me before they said goodbye, Heaven is For Real. She is desperate, as desperate as she has ever been, for me. Eternal damnation for her daughter — nothing could hurt her more deeply. “You and your sister, you are my world. You are everything to me,” she said through tears. I can’t handle their pain. I would honestly do anything to take it from them, and I am completey overcome with heaviness at the thought that I did this to them.
Sometimes life seems utterly hopeless to me. There is just so much pain, and I feel responsible for all of it. What solace do I have??