On days like this, I look and sound totally normal, just like everyone else, while my stomach churns, my feet feel like lead, and my heart burns with pain.
On days like this, Satan wins. I can see him clapping his hands in glee as I work hard to prepare for a meeting, only to get cut down.
On days like this, I forget I'm doing this not for me, but for some higher purpose that God has yet to reveal.
On days like this, I drown the ache of loneliness in alcohol, enjoying a bit of numbness and relief from the pain before I go to bed.
On days like this, the majority now, I continue the pattern of avoiding my friends. Most of them have made it clear they don't want to hear about it. The one friend who will listen is someone who I'm not really supposed to be talking to. But he is kind and patient, and listens without judgment and with compassion.
On days like this I still pray even though God doesn't seem to answer.
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