Good Intentions

Good intentions are only ever that - good intentions.

Unless they're turned into meaningful, authentic actions.  Then they become infinitely more significant.  And you become a better person for following through.

But what happens if your good intentions turned actions cease because the situation or circumstance changes?  Were you ever sincere in those actions or were you merely acting out of the desire for selfish gain?  Were your prayers for that person sincere or were they spoken for hopes of making things "right" in case they ever worked in your favour?

Do I even have a point in asking all these questions?

Probably not.

I can't remember the last time my insides were so full of thoughts and words and poetry that if I didn't type them out I would feel as if I was going to burst.

I can't remember the last time any of the words I did write hold an undertone of hope and light and life.

I imagine that is probably because I myself have felt so hopeless for so long.

And then I find myself [stupidly] up late at night, browsing social media, and checking up on Adam Young's instagram account.  Doing so reminds me why I try to avoid following him on social media because the last time I did that - several years ago - I found myself falling for his stupid (in the most affectionate way) face...just like every other female on the planet.

How.  Cliché.

But it also reminds me of how much his faith inspires my own (or major lackthereof, currently).  And how his words bring so much hope and light and life to those who read them.  And how his dumb, crazy good music makes me want to fall in love when I listen to it.  (Something I desperately try to fight against as much as possible.)

I try to avoid thinking too much these days, because the end result is always a downward spiral due to life [seemingly] having no direction, no answers, no nothing.  And I don't need to be any more sad than I already am.  Much less be reminded of how out-of-whack my body is and how I have no solutions to get better since we don't even know what's wrong.

(Though that recently changed!!)

I wish I could write words that...impacted.  Not inspire, not spur action, not call for bravery.  Rather, words that are raw and bleeding with honesty, with the harsh realities of life, painting pictures with the dark and dull colours that real life is accompanied by.  But also words that, in the end, speak softly of hope, healing with obvious love, a seranade of warm and vibrant colours that dance and serve as a reminder that life is something worth celebrating.

Am I good with words?

Do they hit home?

Am I - above all else - honest in what I write?

I try to be.

There is absolutely no point, no benefit, to pretending life is all sunshine and kittens when life is actually happening.  No one singular individual's life is ever perfect or flawless or anything lacking in struggles that they may portray it to be.

I suppose I could be a bit too honest at times; but I'd rather be that and admit that I'm struggling, admit that I don't know, rather than let pride get the better of me.

What is the point of all of this?

I have no idea.

I guess I'm just writing for the sake of writing because finally, after so long, I can't fall asleep until these words are out of me.

Does that make them worthy of using your time to read them?

Hardly.

I still need time to heal, to mend, to figure things out.  I am so lost, so weary and tired and broken, and I don't even know where to start to begin to heal.  Okay, well maybe I do know where to start, but you have to want to get better first, and I'm not quite there yet.

I am, however, looking into getting help to get to the place where I will care enough about things to want to change and get better.

Everything is still a mess, still a puzzle, but that's okay.  I am taking life one day at a time.  I have friends and family who care enough for me to pray for me when I cannot pray for myself.

And I have, I know (though I can't seem to see it for myself), hope.  That life will work out, that health will return, that plans will continue.  It may not be in the ways I expect it to, or want it to, but it will.

There is hope.

There is always hope.