an open letter to my friend

dear friend,

I see it. I see it in your eyes. The darkness that your smiles and words can’t hide. The terror that someone will find out mixed with the terror that no one will ever care. I see it. Oh, I see it. Not with the eyes of judgement but with eyes of one who has been there. One whose heart is breaking with yours. I know that darkness, I know that fear. I wish I could wrap you up tightly in my arms, I wish I could take you to safety. It hurts knowing I can’t take it away. It hurts ’cause that darkness. . . consumes everything. Not just you and your emotions. It seeps into everything else too, it affects everyone that is near you. The last people in the world you want to hurt, you’re pushing away. It’s hurting them. The darkness is consuming them too. So much hurt. So much pain. Those people you love end up pointing fingers in your face cause they don’t understand. They can’t even begin to comprehend it. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. And the cycle continues. Hurt upon hurt upon hurt. It feels like you’re drowning in it. You want it to end. You have lost hope that it ever will end.

It’s such a hard, hard, dark, dark, terrifying place. I can hardly stand it that you’re there. I feel so helpless. I don’t know how to help.

I want to tell you there is hope, that my God is there in the dark, dark scary places, even if you can’t feel Him. I want to tell you that the people hurting you right now LOVE you more than you can imagine, even though it feels like they hate you. They’re just hurting, trying to fix you, and they don’t get it. I want to tell you that God is a God of hope. There is hope. It’s HIM. Push into Him. Dig deep into HIM. Believe what the Bible says even when you can’t feel it. I also want to tell you that your feelings are your own worst enemy right now. You can’t trust them, you can’t let them define what is truth. You have to make decisions right now. You can feel your sadness, but please don’t believe the lies the darkness is screaming at you. I want to tell you so many things. . . but I am guessing you won’t hear me. Because I have been there. I know what it’s like. Until you believe that I love you and want what’s best for you, you won’t hear a word I say.

So I pray for you, dear, dear Friend. Often. Over and over. Sometimes I don’t even know how to pray. I pray wordless prayers. A lot. I keep reminding myself that my God loves you far more than I do. You’re in good hands.

so much love, Brittany


p.s. if  you’re reading this open letter and you barely know me or know me extremely well and desperately need someone to talk to. please email me. I would count it a privilege and honor to hear your heart.