Some days I wake up and I feel good. Those days are special to me. Often, I wake up and I feel a lack in my heart. There’s really no easy way to put it into words. At least, there wasn’t until tonight. There was an open mic at our school’s chapel service tonight. I listened to many, many of the students that I live with on campus give their testimonies of how God has been working in their lives, and a theme emerged: community.

The word seems so strange to me. For all of the hard times I’ve faced, for all of the challenges I gone through, for all of the lies I’ve confronted, for all of the joys I’ve cherished, I cannot say that any other person has been there with me, save God. So, now I see the fruit of my lifestyle (the only way of living I’ve ever known so it’s understandable, and I certainly don’t want your pity, but I hope that I can still change). I have no community. So I watch people give testimonies of the support they’ve found in relationships founded on love and trust and wonder how anyone manages to find such a thing. Yeah, I’m wallowing in self-pity right now and half the things coming out of mouth probably aren’t even slightly true; I should probably stop. I’m sorry, forgive me.

In response to these feelings of hopelessness and lacking (I cannot be blamed, guilted, or shamed for feeling them), I choose to cling. I cling to my relationship with God because He knows exactly how I think and understands my inner turmoil completely. I know that He has ordained all of my days, and that He is using my lacking to establish His glory in my life somehow.

I drew this.