Here I am in the darkness again.  It’s become such a familiar place that today I feel comfortable here and don’t want to leave.  To leave would mean to go out into the light, and the light is where my pain comes from.  It’s what drives me to the darkness.

     I haven’t been this far into the darkness for a long time; to the place where I want to be left all alone; to the place where I am emotionally exhausted.  I take refuge in my room, but envision myself sitting alone in a dark corner of a cave.  It’s cold in here, but I feel safe, away from all the hands.

     The hands are in the light, always reaching for me — wanting.  They always want me to give:  time, attention, love; things from deep within me, but they don’t give much back in return and sooner or later, I end up here in the darkness, emotionally exhausted.

     I try to explain to them, two in particular, that they are hurting me.  I try to encourage them to look beyond themselves but my words seem to bounce right off, not getting through, having no effect.  Even my tears find no softness, apologies or compassion.

     I have cried out to God, begging and pleading with Him to open their eyes and hearts, to draw them to Himself, that they could learn to love each other, many times in the past.  I know He has heard every word, but even He chooses to do nothing.

     So, today, I didn’t even bother to pray.  I couldn’t find the strength or desire to send up another prayer for two hardened hearts.

     My heart is broken and, I suspect, the many tears I have shed will be followed by many more, and I am sure I will revisit this dark place of comfort again.

     Though I wish I could remain here, alone in the darkness a while longer, I will dig deep within, to the vast reserves of strength I believe the Lord placed within me a long time ago, and go forth to the light, and those groping hands, because I love them all with the love of the Lord and will continue to do so until the very last drop of that reserve strength is gone.