Bitterness is a real thing. I hate that I have to go through stuff and then chastised on top of that for how I feel about it. There’s just no humanity. I really have days where I don’t care about God or supernatural things or divine things. I just want to be a human and process emotions and live without this huge theological weight on my shoulders and then being assigned guilt for wanting just a regular way of life. And I’m tired of faith and the unseen and all the rousing up spiritually and told to literally ignore everything I sense with my senses and everything has a deeper meaning. I am tired trying to convince myself God loves me or I am loved and about some future glory. I don’t care. I don’t even care about present glory. I just want to get through stuff. And cry.
I have had many days like this. Many. And to be honest, I had to. Solitude isn’t for everyone and solitude will bring out the raw in you. It will challenge every encouragement or exhortation or whatever tries to pull you through. It’s exhausting expecting to be pulled through, like you’re supposed to escape it and not just go through it. Solitude will change your notion of victory. What I love about solitude is that it brings me to a raw place. It bares me. It bares my skin. It makes me shout. It makes me go through humanity. It brings me to dry places. It makes me desperate. These are things that typically we want to shy away from, but solitude pushes me to it. It forces me to look at life from the fringes. It forces me to live.