Today I realized that there’s a gnawing at the back of my being. When I’m reaching out for fun, and finding fun, there’s guilt. When I glimpse hope, there’s guilt. When joy surprises, there’s guilt. When I awake each morning, there’s guilt. When I thank God for each day, there’s guilt. This guilt is quite endless.
Oh guilt, how you love to haunt me, taunt me. Why am I alive? How dare I move away from death? You look for fun?…ridiculous when you should be completely undone by death and the death of love. Did you really love if you can move ahead and leave him behind? You’re celebrating life? You hope for a future of love? Unbelievable when your love just died 15 weeks ago. How dare you move his belongings, give away his clothes, hide his pictures. How dare you forget, for a moment or two, that death took your love. How dare you live…
And that’s the true message of guilt, DIE. If my love couldn’t continue on this earth, then I should shrivel up and die.
I want life! I want joy! I want love! I want adventure! I want fun! I want mission! I want life!
This dichotomy wrestles within me…
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