Even though I said quite categorically I wasn’t going to do anything extra in church for a while, I did stuff today, because it was asked of me, and because it was Easter. Easter is supposed to be special. Joyful. I wanted to be a part of that. I was glad to be asked.

I resolved to give it all I had. All I had was taken. Not that that was any use, because it still went wrong. I am rubbish. All that is in me is bitterness, and anger, and spite, and resentment. And guilt because I am avoiding being with my family, “Is Dad not with you today?”, because there are added worries now, and I can barely face the old ones. I am useless. There is nothing loving, or good or worthy in me anymore. Nothing left but pain. I have medication that promises pain relief. I have enough. And it would relieve the pain.

Christ is risen!


People were so happy today. But there was no joy for me in this morning. Joy is the promise of the resurrection. When will I know it? When will I feel it? Celebrating Easter made no difference. Even though I gave everything. So what is the point? I can’t offer any more. I am empty, weak, and exhausted. I long to feel accepted and happy. I feel like a burden. Every minute today is a struggle against emotional pain.

Taking the medication would end that pain, but it wouldn’t bring me joy. Joy is the promise of the resurrection. I am clinging fast to that. Jesus promises joy. In the meantime, I need His strength to keep going, because I have none of my own left. Because, without the resurrection promise, I can see no point in living anymore.

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