Ya'll, I stumbled across a perfect paragraph written by another woman in a world of hurt:
As The Ruin Falls
I cannot deny that I have yet to be honest about the demons that rage inside of my mind, but it is difficult.
My mind is like a giant white wall that has been vandalized with all sorts of gross graffiti, and God has given me more than enough paintbrushes and paint to restore it. I paint, and paint, but then I get tired... and weep to my friends: "this wall is dirty, and it used to be white!"
They tell me: "take those paintbrushes and fix it then." I know that they are right, and I know how to do it... it just takes a lot of time and labor.
I like to go visit my friends with white walls and pretend that I've finished cleaning mine, and that I'm just like them. But it's a lie, and every time I go back to look at it, I want to weep again.
So, here I am... called to take up the brush once more. Wretched, but not yet rendered useless.
[Summer of 2011 Deletion/Republishing Note: I have googled like crazy to find which blog this came from to restore the hyperlinked URL but cannot find it to credit the author. If anyone knows it, let me know]Labels: other people's words |
