IT'S FRIDAY, I'M IN LOVE.

written in slumber by matryosha

There are days when even your morning coffee does not taste the same; you try your hardest, in vain, to figure out how to fix it. After helplessly staring at it, like how Alice would through a looking glass, you sigh and just settle. You know days like this will pass anyway.

Then your plate of pancakes does not look as appetizing as its thought in your head two nights ago, When you tossed and turned in your bed with the strangest pancake craving you have ever experienced in you entire existence. You draw images on top of them with your maple syrup, sigh, and convince yourself: This, too, shall pass.


Breakfast is finished. The most important meal of your day sucked, and you do not know how the rest of the day would go. And it's a Friday. 

"Of all days," you mutter to yourself.

You sit and stare blankly around the empty house. There are a million  things and to-do's and people and places in your head, but you could not move a muscle. And you wonder if you are still dreaming.

"It's almost Christmas," you tell yourself as you look at the garland of reindeer hanging by one of the dining chairs.

It still IS one of my favorite seasons of the year. How I miss my family.

The heavy feelings I had upon waking up shifted a little when I entered the studio, The morning rays welcomed me, and it made me smile. It felt like everything in the room exuded joy, and there I was, bringing all these negative energies into the room. It did not feel right to feel sad and uninspired in your own happy place.

So I refused to work and decided I needed to talk to myself first.

Before leaving the studio, and like a little child, I waved at the altar, as if telling God, "I just woke up. My bad." I am usually up before 7 a.m. for morning prayer and reading, but today, I woke up one hour late.

And here I am now, writing. 

Writing has always been a way to talk to myself.

I opened my Youtube page and the default music video (for weeks now) plays.

She is hard on herself. She is broken and won't ask for help. She is messy but she's kind. She is lonely most of the time. She is all of these mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie.

"Oh, how fitting," I thought.

Then, just as I was wallowing in all these sad thoughts, I strangely came across this page about Denzel Washington's talk  on the power of prayer and faith.

I was struck by his mother's words:

"There has never been a time when God didn't direct, protect or correct me. There may have been times where I was less than faithful to Him--but He had faith in me."

You see, just before reading this article, I was silently talking to God and asking him if anyone else is praying for me. "I've been praying for them--they don't even know I'm praying for them. Does anyone pray for me, too?"

I don't know whether God is accustomed to prayer-complaints like this one, but I guess, at some point, when we get tired of loving too much, we just break down and blurt such words to God. 

Then I read the article.

I knew right then that my question was answered.

"How quickly He responds!," I thought. 

After a while, I realize that it's okay to breathe. I realize it's okay to feel lonely. I realize it's okay to feel bruised and helpless. It's okay to not enjoy your morning coffee and breakfast. It's okay to feel nostalgic about holiday movie-watching with the family. It's okay to feel alone.

I realize that acknowledging these feelings give us greater room to appreciate the humanity in us, and the natural emotions that we have. They remind us that, yes, we are imperfect and we'll have our share of less than perfect days, but this does not mean that we are unloved.

We are loved more than we know. God's amazing ways will remind us over and over of this truth when we most need it.

You'll get through this, child. I have faith in you. --will always be answer we'll hear.

More than goosebumps, I felt relief and comfort and joy.

"Thank You," was my heart's cheerful reply.

It is feeling a million times better now.  :)


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