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Victoria Ramsdell

His Peace In My Grief

Updated: Aug 15, 2020

I feel tired. Tired in my bones, in my flesh and in my spirit. I would be lying if I said I loved it here yet, and I didn't want to go home. Because the truth it, I want to go home. I want my routine back. I want some friends I know, I want the job I spent a year getting, I want the new church I was attending and the views I can't get anywhere else. I want want want.

Doesn't feel right to want this much. But my soul feels raw with emotion. I feel scraped to the bottom of who I am, and in the aftermath my emotions are running wild. At the same time, I can't remember a moment besides the hour in counseling where I felt allowed to take any sort of time to process my emotions, therefore I am in the habit of compartmentalizing. Dulling my emotions for the moment, the situation, the people around me, all makes me feel less human, more object.


The more object I become, the more object I treat myself. Breaking myself down and using any hopeless sort of way to fix myself up. Tape. Glue. Hope and little luck.

I am reminded of an honest verse in Proverbs 3:

It makes me feel good to know that in my rawness He is healing. That because of Him, there will not be more challenges in my life than I can handle. That I am a tree bending, but not breaking. That even I cannot break myself.


I am learning to see Him in the midst of my confusing emotions. I am choosing to give my emotions to Him to sift through, and repeating that even on my off days He is all over my situation. Most importantly, that He is really with me. I need a comforter right now, and I got one in the father. I don't want to sugar coat it anymore though, so I am speaking my truth out loud. That is why I write. That is why I post. That is what you see.

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