This is what I think just about every time, but this really is the worst night for me to have insomnia. I have to wake up at 7:30am for work tomorrow, which for me is really early, and on top of that I have to get up at the same time on Sunday in order to make it to church on time to get everything prepared for the service. It’s gotten to the point where if I don’t get 8 or more hours of sleep the night before, I wake up feeling like I have a terrible cold. I can’t be feeling that way tomorrow. I can’t bear to feel sick again at work. It’s unbearable. It makes me feel less human, which is ironic because it’s the suffering that unites us all as humans.
I wonder why it is that I have suffered so much in my lifetime. Maybe you’ve thought the same thing. I don’t know your story, but I sure feel like I’ve been through a lot of low points in my life already. Not a day goes by that I don’t find myself praying for things in my life to change. I have been dealing with so much pain lately, but you wouldn’t know unless you were my brain and could see and feel everything I do. I wonder, why me? What am I doing that is causing all of this suffering? Is it actually my fault? Is there something that God wants me to learn in all of this? It’s almost as if I don’t care anymore about the answers as long as I can have a decent night’s sleep.
When I do sleep, my dreams are love stories—the one thing that feels like home. The place is always lovely and damp with rain—a place for new beginnings. At last, I’m free of it all and can share my love in full without worrying about the overflow. In these dreams our faces don’t matter. What does matter are the ways we dance in the rain together, and how we can jump into the ground and not bleed a single drop of humanity. We aren’t human anymore. We are dreams and we are alive.
I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to live where I’m in love, where I don’t bleed so much, where my skin doesn’t scar because breaking the surface isn’t an option. I want a God who says, “I’m here.” More than that though. I desire a God who is visibly right by my side, who turns my off switch at night and always wakes me up in full bloom without a sickness that brings me down as the people grow up and strong. I want life. I deserve this, God. But no Nolan, you are human and don’t you forget it.
God… I am human. God damnit, I am human.
Sure this is the way I feel, but what I choose to believe is that even though I am suffering, I have a creator that is bigger than my pain—that has a plan for me and this world that transcends my pain. Yours too. God will use this pain to bring us closer to the beating heart of our relationship. But… I’ll be honest, I don’t see how. Right now, I see nothing that keeps me linked to the promises of scripture. It is merely a choice that lies before me. Choose to believe in the God of scripture or not. I can’t get myself to choose against it. There’s too much emptiness there—more than there already is. I feel like it is my job to find the anecdote for the emptiness of my existence. Choosing to believe that God is here just as Jesus said is what keeps me going. O God, help me to keep believing.