Road block!

So yeah…it wasn’t up last night. Sowwy? It’s almost done though…just working through a bit of road block up in my cerebrum. There’s orange and black warning tape, a “Flagger Ahead” sign, utility trucks, and sweaty guys pushing shovels through the dirt. The flow of thought is restricted to a bare fifteen miles per hour. Brain dead, writer’s block, brain fart, deer in the headlights, whatever you want to call it…
So here’s just a little spice for your Sunday (to hold you over because I know you’re just sitting there on the edge of your seat for Part 2 😉 )
So there’s this idea:


I used to think that was a real idea. Probably because I was one of those dreamy, wide-eyed, creative kids who actually believed in “happily ever after” and that the struggle ends as the prince carries the gorgeous princess off into the sunset. Or that the pain ends when that person miraculously comes back to life after a miracle drug healed their zombie wounds to baby skin. Or that aging is just a series of passing from one glory to another as more and more things turn out for the best…
Unfortunately, this is not an idea solely limited to girls who watch too many Disney movies.
It’s something that affects corporate officials, college students, cheerleaders, expectant mothers, lonely singles, and inmates alike.
The idea of “arriving.” Of finding completeness, healing, wholeness, and meaning. And it’s always just over the horizon.
I’m convinced that such a place never exists. That the struggle isn’t a temporary battle that we vanquish with a flaming sword, dust off our armor, and then continue on in peace. It’s all-out, hands-down, every day that we breathe.
It’s like that moment in Catching Fire where Peeta and Katniss are standing on the train hurtling toward the capitol. As victors of the Hunger Games, the two “tributes” have to make speeches in each district where someone died. It’s stressful, and they constantly worry about following protocol, saying the right things, and wearing the mask. The consequence of not doing those things is death.
One of them made a flippant remark about the trip only taking so long, the stress only lasting for as long as the train took them forward, and that as soon as they got home, everything would be better. No more eyes watching. No more speeches.
Their trainer overhears the comment and says, “This trip doesn’t end when you get back home! You NEVER get off this train!”
The realization in their faces is chilling. The realization that their lives will never be normal, free, and complete again. That the struggle, the journey, NEVER ENDS.
Why do we think we’re any different?
The idea that the struggle is never-ending could be a depressing thought. It could make you curl up in bed and watch Netflix all day and never open the windows. Or it could make you a soldier.
Either way, we all have to fight. There is no happy place, no “happily ever after” in this life. The ship doesn’t dock in port after one gale…it passes through many peaceful and stormy seas alike before the winds rip it apart.
Is that disappointing?
I hope that the daily battles make you a soldier and not a deserter. It’s hard, I feel ya, it’s hard. It’s hard to keep hope when it seems like there’s no end.
Keep your faith. There are many sweet moments throughout the struggles…and the promise of eternity is enough to make it all worth it. Worth it through the pain.
See ya’ll tonight!



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