...of Home, but Standing on the Porch

My last post was exactly four months ago! I'm nurturing the culinary side of me. I've been immersed in school, work, and my personal life; neglecting the writer in me. Now, I've jotted down some ideas and written a few poems, but for the most part it seems as if writing has never been a part of me. Because of this, my heart filled up and then burst! The overflow of my heart was not good at all...it was the ugliest it has ever been.

When I became overwhelmed with anxiety about finding a job, paying for school, getting a vehicle, when I'd be able to move out of my parent's house, marital decisions, and custody situations, I prayed and/or wrote letters to God in my journal but since things were not working out like I wanted them to, I felt as if I were not getting results; instead I felt as if I were getting worse so I stopped praying for myself and lamenting to God on paper. There were a select few people I shared my heart with but I grew tired of hearing things like, "It's going to get better," "I'm/we're praying for you," "God wouldn't give you more than you could handle," "It's going to work out in your favor, just wait and see, "God's got something good for you/He's preparing you for something great," "God's got a blessing for you girl," or "It's going to be okay, don't worry." I wanted to scream, "STOP COMFORTING ME WITH CLICHES!" but I didn't, instead I withdrew and silently cried into my pillow and/or blanket at night asking God why and what is it...what am I missing or supposed to be learning. I even told Him that I was tired and didn't want whatever blessing, (if there was one), was coming.

In a nutshell, I lost faith for myself, (now don't get me wrong, I still believe in God, and I pray for others, but I don't pray for myself and I don't have the faith for myself). My eyes are set on what I see, and that is surely not faith.