If only question marks can be seen, it is written and flaunted all over your face. Your forehead isn't wrinkled yet I know you're bothered. Your eyebrows aren't meeting yet I know how worried you are. No matter how hard you try to understand, things seem to be out of your grasp. You're confused. Filled with questions but the answers aren't fleeting and nowhere to be found. Are you getting hopeless? Are you ready to give up? Are you going to lose the fight?
As I write this letter, my heart is anxious— I'm you. As I think of the right words to say, my heart is looking for answers, too. I'm throwing questions above, hoping for answers to fall down. But guess, I received nothing. I'm confused as you are as well.
If it seems like tears are the only escape, then, I'll say it's okay. Go and pour your heart out. Dwell in your sorrows. You can be mad and furious. You may yell and scream. If you choose to stay silent, suppress what's inside, cry silently— it's okay. Anything is fine but above all— you can be vulnerable. Not with me or to anyone but to the One who lists and keeps track of your sorrows.
Psalms 56:8
You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book..
End Note: He knows it all. He is aware of your confusion. He understands. He hears. He acts.
