Tonight is one of those nights where existence feels too difficult. The word ‘can’t’ plays over and over in my mind. It’s become my mantra. Effort carries a crushing weight that is unbearable.

I’ve hit a wall, and it’s knocked the wind out of me.

I can’t handle the thought of living this thing called life in a category called adult. It overwhelms me, and all I want to do is lie on the floor and drift off into a sleep that carries me away from this place. I would give anything to sleep for days, and think of nothing but breathing.

That will never be an option for me. Not as a single woman. Not as an adult. Not as a human.

I feel so weak in these moments. I want to be able to handle the stress of survival, but I’m fractured. I’m incapable of doing this on my own.

That acknowledgement is my only hope in this atmosphere of despair. I can’t. I know I can’t. I must turn to the one who can.

My Jesus promised me that my weakness is where his strength is made perfect (2 Cor 12:9). He has provided me with enough grace to pick myself up off of the floor and face another day.

There’s no way I could do anything without him. Especially not on nights like these where the wall is the only thing I can see.

Are you staring at the wall too? Take a step back and breathe. He’s whispering to you that HE can. It doesn’t matter what your ‘can’t’ looks like. He’s got this covered.

Be well my sisters. These walls can’t stand forever.


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