Blue Sky Promises

I am so hungry.

Well, there sure is a lot of food on that table. Where do you want to start?

It isn't real.

So, what is the real problem here? You're hungry. What are you hungry for?

That's just it. I don't know. I've wracked my brain trying to figure out what is wrong and . . . it eludes me.

I've had several calls from you. 

Well, at least now I know you got them.

Now, let's not be flip.

I'm just trying to let you know how I feel.

I got that message, too.

There is this enormous gaping hole I can't fill. And it seems to grow larger every day. I think . . . I think that . . .

That?

I think I'm overreacting and no one really cares, anyway. It's been a pretty rotten day. I slept badly last night and didn't get enough sleep. I got up and had coffee and I fell asleep reading my Bible. I was so tired. I must have slept badly in the chair. A storm moved in and I woke up feeling as if a truck had hit me. I've not been well since.

...

What? No advice? Nothing?

What do you want me to say?

What do I want you to say? Really? I don't even know what I want. Do you expect me to know what you want? In fact, I think that's the problem. What exactly do you expect from me? I'm pretty much useless. I can't do anything I wanted to do. I'm so isolated that I could be on an island and no one would even know. I was in the kitchen and Sarah asked me who I was talking to! I don't even know anymore when I talk out loud to myself or am talking in my head. What do I want you to say? Well, anything would be nice. Or maybe it wouldn't. If it isn't nice, I don't think I want to know. I've had enough of the other stuff.

You're tired. 

I am more than tired. I'm wasted. Hollow. Vacant. Void. Empty. Deserted. Abandoned.

You're not deserted or abandoned. 

Look around here, please. I want to go home and it doesn't even exist anymore except in my head.

You're homesick?

... I don't know. No. It is deeper than that. I want to go back and do one thing differently so that everything will be different. I want what is lost. I want what can't ever be. I want things the way they were before they went wrong.

I see. That's a terrible place to be. An impossible place.

I want to fix all the broken things. And they're all broken. Everything is broken. Even me. And I don't think, no, I know that none of it can be fixed.

You probably ought to think about a new name for this blog. It isn't what it used to be.

Wow. Well, neither am I.

You can't go back. The road only goes forward. You can choose to sit down and stay here. But ... it is a pretty drab spot. Lots of gloomy clouds, darkness hovering just over that hill, and I can't stay here with you. If you stay, you will be alone. 

I know. There is nothing left back there. I watched it burn.

I promise you, there are green pastures ahead. Cool streams. Blue skies. You'll get thru the dark. 

Don't tell me to be patient, please.

I won't. I heard the joke.

#ConversationsWithHim








Note: the joke is "I had patients. They all died."