Sometimes it all feels like too much.
But the kind of too much that implodes on you, not explodes. And imploding is, without a doubt, the worst kind of too much.
You see, when life is too much and you explode, it’s obvious to those around you–they realize finally, that you are not as “alright” as you’ve been attempting to seem.
But when you implode, no one can see the disaster occurring just below the surface of your lies.
When you implode, it’s possible for your whole world to come crashing down on you without making a single sound. It’s possible to disappear into the shadows of people’s ignorance without leaving a trace of the pain you’re enduring, behind.
And sometime later–weeks, months, years even–people will start to wonder whatever happened to you, but by then you’ll be a ghost town–lifeless, helpless, empty, and alone.
This is why imploding is the saddest kind of too much.
Now, I want you to know that you can come back from imploding, but honey, it’s so. much. harder.
Explode on God. Explode on me. Explode on your friends and family. And don’t you worry who you’ll hurt with your tears and fears, your aches and pains, with your broken broken heart.
We will survive, but only if we explode together.
So let’s explode, because we are not alone.
One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 42. It’s my favorite because the psalmist actually addresses his soul–his very troubled soul: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?”
I don’t know how many times I’ve asked myself why I can’t just get up out of bed and be a person. “What is wrong with you?” I’ll ask myself. I try to reason with myself and tough it out, but unfortunately, this doesn’t usually work.
The psalmist addresses one more person in his song–God. He frankly asks God why God has forgotten him. And because this is a song, I have a feeling that the guy is probably singing this with his friends, letting them in on the fact that he’s hardcore struggling.
The psalmist shares his ugliest doubts with God and with us. This is why I believe that it is so incredibly important to be honest with yourself, with God, and with others about where you’re at–no matter how dark a place that may be.
I caution you to choose wisely who you share with, though–choose trustworthy and emotionally competent people, because your precious heart deserves to be handled with care. But once you’ve chosen your people, trust the Lord and don’t fear your journey into the light.