14 November 2010

My broken cisterns never could stay filled

today my father turned 61. wish I could be with him to celebrate. my heart is aching with the very thought. I miss him so much my heart wants to burst. this morning, I tried calling him for the first time in three years (since he left). my heart was pounding so hard. he didn't answer. I gave it a few minutes and called again. no answer. it seems that he has already gone to bed. I want to crawl back into bed too.

new thought. the sad thing about blogs, at least for me, is that I feel it's the only place where my voice is heard. when I do choose to speak to others of my aches, longings and so forth, I find it horribly crushing. there is no comfort, no compassion. I am not moved but grieved. I get this sense that people don't want to engage in other people's suffering because they only choose to deal with their own. what a horror.

Jesus save me from this place. I want more than this. I long for relationships filled with generosity, compassion, thankfulness... drawing from the reservoir of Christ's love. where are the saints? who shall run this race with me?

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