...DeFyiNg GraViTy...

Okay, God. You brought me this far. You let me screw up a million times. You let me run as far as I could. You let me slap you in the face over and over and over. You watched when I made some of the worst decisions of my life. You sat by and let me throw away friendships that meant more to me than the world. But you protected me the whole way. You didn’t get fed up with me when I did everything that I could to piss you off. You loved me the whole time. You walked by me every step of the way. So what now? What more could I possibly have to let go of now? Why would you bring me this far, just to drop me off of this huge, rocky, orange cliff? Why would you strip me of everything and everyone that I have known for the past three years of my life, and then walk away? Or at least make it seem like you did. Where the hell am I supposed to go from here? How much more do I have to do to make things right? Because to tell you the truth, I'm just about ready to give up.

This is one of those times when I really wish God could talk. Don’t get me wrong: I realize that we can hear Him when we are quiet, and listen. But I just wish that, just this once, he could slap a big, yellow post-it note on my fridge to tell me the plan. Or just whisper a few words in my ear to tide me over until dinner.

I was recently reminded of one of my all time favorite quotes when it was repeated on the Sunday night show, Grey’s Anatomy: “Why do I continue to hit myself in the head with a hammer over and over again? Because it feels so good when I stop.”

Well, I’m ready to stop. I’m ready for things to feel good again. So why can't I stop hammering...