rom an article originally posted June 3, 2014...
Choices, always choices meet us in our daily living. I have often talked to friends of the pull of the darkened room where I am tempted to spend endless hours facing a screen and checking out of living. The pull is not a light one—it’s a strong, desperate pull to stop. To quit. To check out. I still have suffocating moments that steal my peace and leave me ragged. Most evenings are a battle for peace before sleep. That is why I posted yesterday about the struggle in going, going, going. But if I’m truly honest, my going is a result of my fear of stopping—stopping and never getting going again. And perhaps if we are all honest, our going is so we don’t have to look at the condition of our hearts. I know that is my fear. If I slow, I stop, I listen, I might hear the depth of my sadness. But there is a lie in that fear, isn’t there. Yes, I know the sadness to be true, but what if I faced it? Would I be left?