If two years ago today you’d have told me what I would be like two years from now, I’d have scoffed. If you could have told me how my life would spiral out of control, that I’d want my life to end, that I’d eventually begin a long journey out of the cloud of darkness I thought would never leave….that my thoughts on life, God, and ministry would drastically change and grow….I’d have thought you insane. I’d have been afraid and would have done everything in my power to keep it all from coming to pass. I would have fought for control.
I’m so glad I didn’t know. I’m so glad it came. I’m so glad I experienced what I believe was a taste of hell….real hell. My own personal internal hell. I’ve no other way to describe it. I’ve got a lump in the back of my throat as I type these words. I’ve got nothing to be but grateful. And at the same time…I hate it. I hate the pain. I hate what comes with becoming alive. I hate it but I love it…after all, I can’t truly love something if I can’t truly hate something. We can’t experience real joy…real happiness…if we can’t experience real pain…real sorrow. Life comes with both, and if one isn’t real, than neither is the other. If you think you’ve experienced joy, but always stuff the pain…never let yourself sit in it…feel it, then let me tell you…I truly believe the joy you’ve tasted is but a shadow of what’s real.