Bitterness and anger tumble around in the pit of my stomach as I try to make sense of it all.  Loneliness closes in and chokes me like never before.
I cry out and say, "Father, just make me stop loving.  My heart's been broken so much that by now it's simply sore.

If You're supposed to protect it, cradle it safe, and love it, why is it shattered, the pieces scattered, a bit here and there?
And not one fragmented sorry, not one nugget of remorse, is expressed.  As if I'm the only one with the decency, or stupidity, to care.

I just don't understand.  I don't understand why unwanted tears seem to flow, or why the rainbow has to come after the rain.
Why do memories make it so hard to heal, Father?  How could You possibly find any glory in Your child having to endure this pain?"

It's then that He answers, "Don't you see that hurting can teach you how to live, My child?  That love is risky, but worth the chance?
Happiness can be a beautiful, gentle surprise.  And through the eyes of faith, life often looks better after a second glance."  <3

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