Sorrow, my long-lived friend, you cannot seem to leave me alone. Always you’ve wrestled inside since…well, as long as I can remember. I dreaded the times you’d come to visit. We’ve never seemed to get along over the years. Your visitations were always unpleasant for me, until recent times. I think I got so tired of the pain I felt that I decided to listen to you just once; let you say what you wanted to say. And just like that, you became a friend.
You remind me I’m human, something I find so hard to see most times. You remind me that I feel; for to feel is definitely better than not to, I think. Perhaps I feel too much, but you only over stay your welcome by a smidge, never to the point of desperation. You hear me when others don’t. You can understand the delicacies of my words where others take them lightly.
But yet, the times we’re together I’ve found to be the most emotionally exhausting times. You show up after the damage is done and typically tend to pour salt in the wounds, telling me it’s good for me. My friends seem to disagree with your methods. I’ve been so used to your voice that it’s hard to hear their’s at times. I find that I draw closer to God because of you. You open up my eyes to the depravity of the world…and of myself. But truthfully, sometimes I don’t want to know. I want to be ignorant. I want to keep my innocence intact. With you I don’t really have a choice. You are, to me, as uncontrollable as the tide.
You make me realize how much I take Joy’s visits for granted. In fact, you make me remember what I had forgotten. I miss her a lot. So don’t be jealous.
I don’t know what to make of our relationship anymore. And I don’t think the visits will ever end. But, Sorrow, we can’t be as close as we’ve been. You tend to come to me when God seems to be out of town, so we still will end up speaking to one another. I know He’s greater than you are; He’s more understanding of who and what I am; He’s more loving than you can ever hope to be. You are sweet for but a moment in time, where He is always sweet so long as I continue to eat. You tell me it isn’t my fault, where Truth tells me it is. I departed from Him. I’m the nomad. I’m the one seeking for freedom, finding myself enslaved without Him. I miss God. Don’t be sad, Sorrow. I just want Him to return swiftly; or truthfully, for me to make it back safely. Please, may nothing hold me back.