There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin. For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.

Psalm‬ ‭38‬:‭3‬-‭4

“You are free and that is why you are lost.” -Franz Kafka

It is the best thing in the world to come to the very end of ourselves.

Even better if it doesn’t kill us.

Sure, it’s best to not have to leave the fold and try our own way, but for those of us so afflicted with a bent toward rebellion out of spite or fear or boredom, it often is a necessary journey.

We trudge down a path of self-serving, anesthetizing vices looking for truth.

We are looking for God.

We’ve just misidentified Him. We are confused, and in moments of melancholy, we’ll admit it.

The bad news is that this is a slow erosion of ourselves. And the risks are mortal.

But we indeed begin to see glimpses of the truth—rumors of an idea—in moments where the self is thinnest.

Perhaps we are not enough.

Perhaps we are not the point.

It’s a sharp edge because it’s true, but many use it to abandon hope rather than reach further for it.

From here there will be opportunities to admit the truth—often in those lucid, dark mornings of reflection.

“I can’t stop.”

“I want to change.”

“I am empty.”

“I need help.”

“I can’t keep going.”

Whatever the mantra, the heart of the matter is to close one chapter and open the next.

It is going to hurt.

God, thank you for the resolve to turn the page.