God, this weekend has been a crazy one. I'm left feeling ashamed, pathetic, and altogether not right. Why does this have to happen this way? Why does my heart have to be broken? Why do I still have to face it all the time? Why do I still think about it? I thank you for knowing what it is to love. I thank you that he is happy and good and safe. I thank you that you spared me from so much more heartache. I thank you for the opportunity to grow closer to you and to live out your will for my life. But have you even created me to know the love of a husband? Is that even what you have for me. More often than not, I am content, but I think I always convince myself that you have that person waiting around the corner, and that seems to assuage me. That's not enough. That's not where I want to be. I want to be truly content. I want to be yours. However, my heart aches knowing what could be in this world. To be frank, I don't think you have me here for much longer. I don't think that this life was made for me. It feels uncomfortable. It feels foreign. It feels like I don't belong. I hate that.
I just want to know (I'm talking a mere reminder) that I'm where you have positioned me to be. Can I get something small? Can I get confirmation that you actually have something greater than myself planned? Can I hope in your will and your plan? Can I ask for that? Can I ask for your forgiveness? Can I ask that you teach me what that is really like? Can I ask that you show me how to let my love cover a multitude of sins? Can I ask for your peace? Be my husband. Be my best-friend. Be my hope and my love and my forgiveness. Be greater than I could ever make you, and be something more and more each day that I am able to breathe. Currently it hurts to breathe. Currently it comes short, and I'm afraid it will ultimately stop. Please break my pride and my own self for you, for them, for me, for my girls. Show me a way that has deep down confidence in who you are - no matter the suffering or trial or temptation. Show me in the way everlasting.