Here I am.

I’m sitting in my local Starbucks, tapping away at my phone that has only 19% battery life. I sit at a table for six with two other people whom I do not know. They were pleasant when I asked to sit down. And in fact I believe one would have welcomed conversation. I kept my eyes down and smiled and whispered thank you, and arranged my notebook and drink in front of me. This worked and I avoided discussion. But I did notice and feel grateful that they were both accommodating. One is at a laptop and the other guest is using a nail to carve a detailed sculpture out of a large candle! Having laid two napkins on the table, he carefully cuts and sculpts away at the candle. It’s quite good. He’s carving bookshelves with books onto two sides and the other sides meet in the middle like a church narthex.


The hum of the chatter in here is comforting. It’s not just chatter but a combination of soft R&B, the machines whirring, people ordering, and one person with a deeper voice droning, lol. Occasionally his female companion cackles loudly  I don’t begrudge the interruption though, because on another day that will be me.I need this comfort. What do you need when someone you love is experiencing feelings of desperation? So desperate that they feel separated from the world and think about self-harm to feel a part of it?

I felt this way at one time. And to be honest multiple times since in various forms. Telling a person this, however, doesn’t help them. Not that it hurts to share, but it’s not going to be the magical thing that makes their pain go away.

So I am helpless. And this person doesn’t want to talk to me about it. So this person is at a doctor’s office explaining to him these feelings, even though from all outward signs, their life is perfect. And so I hope the doctor listens seriously. I hope they shares their truths. And feel relief.

Lori in writing Soli Deo Gloria size 28 copy

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