This is not your forever. This has felt endless. Maybe it's been days. Maybe it's been years.
You've questioned, you've fought, you've wrestled, you've thrown your hands up, you've held on for dear life.
You've run, you've limped, and you've crawled.
You've endured.
All valleys must end. All nights must give way to sunrise. So must yours.
This is not your forever.
There have been long nights, some spent wide awake. Some spent in and out of troubled sleep and unsettling dreams.
There have been longer days, some you haven't wanted to face, some you didn't want to end because you knew what the night would hold.
There have been tears. Sometimes, they've flowed almost endlessly down your face, through your hands, to the floor. Sometimes, they've merely simmered in the corners of your eyes as you refused to let them fall anymore.
This is not your forever.
You think about the past and what you could have done differently.
You think about the future and see only more of what you're experiencing in the present.
You don't know how much longer you can carry this.
This is not the way it will always be.
This is not your destiny.
This is not your forever.
You fear you've lost yourself along the way, but you haven't. He or she is there, has always been, deep inside. Each piece of you that has fallen off or been chipped away is part of a necessary pruning, a peeling back of layers to reveal a stronger, truer you.
You've had dreams, times when your heart has refused to accept this reality, moments when your soul has stirred up visions of what you know you were created for.
You have a God who knows you, who sees your suffering, who hears your cries, who has the whole world in His hands.
This is the God who's near to you even now. This is the God who hasn't left you to drown, who hasn't abandoned you or forgotten you.
This is the God who will redeem your brokenness.
This is the God who will rescue you from this pain.
This is not your forever.