I’m not sure why, but I really wish we were texting eachother right now.
I wish for the frustration we’d both get when your dad gave us a 10 minute warning during our skype dates.
I wish that I could play my guitar for you and not have to turn off my web camera because I was too shy.
I wish I could wake up to 57 Facebook messages; all from you.
I wish. I wish. I wish.
Isaiah 53:4 says that it was our sorrows He carried.
I pondered on the word “sorrows” for a bit, and then it hit me: Jesus died for our sins, yes. But He also died for our
s o r r o w s .
He died for my sadness, my feelings of utter unworthiness. He died for scars, wounds buried so deep into our skin that the sunlight never touches them.
He died for anxiety. He died for fears. He died for schizophrenia, he died for depression. He died for every bit and piece of bone shattering heart break that I would, or ever will, feel.
Jesus Christ died for bold and blatant wickedness, but he also died for my doubts and insecurities.
to be honest, there hasn’t been a night since jan 31st where i don’t think about us. some nights are happy because i remember all the good. some nights just suck because they do. i just hope you know that i gave it all i had.