Honest

Rain don’t change the sun.

I don’t want to write about fall.

I don’t want to write about things dying to make room for new life.

I don’t want to write about the darkness that comes and seemingly hides the light.

I don’t want to write about that in 2020 I feel like fall is going to break me into smithereens.

I don’t want to write about fall.

Fall seems like the time the standard basic white girl thrives.

I am not that basic apparently (though I am by trade, a basic white girl).

Fall feels like a season I can never get ahead of quick enough before it’s time to put up a Christmas tree.

Fall is when I crashed and burned about 10 years ago. To which you probably say, “Meg, it was ten years ago, why does it matter”.

Because when you hit rock bottom it seemingly leaves a mark and I’m feeling that mark these days (thanks 2020). When you hit rock bottom, and sometimes dabble in the depths every now and then and also when it’s 2020, you can easily get a little scared that with every turn and every new thing that pops up on the radar that you might get shoved down again.

Jesus, that sounds depressing I know.

But I think I want to write this because I really want to articulate how hard it is sometimes to find the thing that brightens up the darkness in words I write.

It is hard to find the turning point, to find look ahead to find the place where the world finally fucking turns. I’m a human who’s going to strive to find a light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m not going to say everything is puppies, rainbows and chip bags fuller of chips than air.

I am just going to say sometimes it is hard and dark and tearful.

And in those moments, it’s ok to cry. It’s ok to mourn and to let things die.

We don’t have to bring everything back to life.

If things keep coming back to life, we might not have room for the new thing. If we keep forcing something back to life, we aren’t ever going to see what our life is like without it.

If we don’t have fall, we can’t eventually have spring.

(I inwardly groaned at myself for that line).

I think, what I’m trying to say, even though I don’t love pumpkin spice lattes, I only go ham on Halloween because I have been plopped into a group of theater humans and that as much as I do appreciate the aesthetics of a fall wardrobe I get too warm in scarves and sweaters, I am going to try to be ok with all the things that need to die in fall.

 I am going to be ok with the tears I might cry and the literal darkness that winds its way toward us with a quicker rate than I’d like (like, fall came AGGRESSIVELY last week).

I am going to be ok with things dying even though it’s going to hurt.

I’m going to remember that it’s not the same fall every year and that good things can come from fall.

I’m going to remember that something good will come even when I don’t know if I necessarily believe that anymore.

And I want YOU to remember that you aren’t alone if the words above all struck somewhat of a chord with you.

I want to leave you with the set of lyrics that the title of this is from. It’s from the song “Morning Comes” by Delta Rae

Rain don’t change the sun.

Jealous is the night when the morning comes.

And it ALWAYS comes.

So no, I didn’t want to write about fall;

But I did, anyway.

ramblings

light always crashes in

I’ve felt a lot of righteous anger in my soul over the last few days. Anger peppered in tears. Anger that is toppling out of me and longing to come out in some physical form. Anger that was thankfully lessened with laughter but dissolved in heartache.

In a shorter amount of words: I’m mad at the world and I’m mad at darkness.

I’ve seen a lot of darkness and bad things thus far in my life. I’ve seen addiction, death, abuse. I’ve wrestled with suicide. I’ve LIVED in darkness.

Darkness angers me.

The last two days I’ve heard story of tragedies that desperately hurt my heart.

Three years ago I met South Africa for the first time. I met the townships, the people, the families. I met the students of Bridges of Hope Academy.

South Africa changed my view of darkness. It changed my view of a lot of things.

Two days ago I found out one of the boys that was a senior when I was there was shot and killed in a township.

I got mad.

Incredibly mad and sad with the overwhelming desire to cry and hit something at the same time.

Life just isn’t fair.

I don’t know what happened; I don’t know where he exactly was in life. I just know he’s gone and I’m mad at the darkness.

I stood railing at the darkness for a while the other night. I couldn’t understand why this 22 year old kid, who’d already gone through so much, who had gotten out, found Jesus, was taken in such a way as he was.

And after I had railed at the darkness of the senseless tragedies that I had heard about in the past couple of days I remembered the light.

It’s there; fighting against the dark forces. Crashing into the evil. Forcing what is bad into the light to crumble.

And I was reminded of an intense picture during some incredibly dark times in my life. Days where I prayed with each step I took, days where I didn’t sleep for fear of another day starting.

Days where I just wanted to end it all.

And Jesus gave me this picture of the darkest room I had ever seen in my life.

No windows, no doors, no way for light to creep in.

And then a dim night light turned on.

And I realized in that moment that He was always there; no matter how dark, how lonely I felt.

No matter how angry at the world I became;

The light is still there. The darkness may make it seem small; but it’s there.

I’m ok with the fact that I rail against the darkness. That I get mad when senseless death happens or when wife lose their husbands and babies lose their dads. I’m ok that I get mad when things break my heart.

It’s ok to yell at the darkness the clammers unwanted into our lives.

But what I remembered Monday night is that I must NEVER forget the promise that the light will always break through.

The light always invades, always plunders and always crush the dark.

So keep your nightlight on. And rally against the dark.