Her real home.

If you’ve read any of my previous blog posts or follow me on Instagram then you know about my battle with ptsd, depression and anxieties. Such a dark time with night terrors, flashbacks, depression that left me in bed most days unable to care for myself or my family, suicidal ideations, weight loss and a pillow filled with tears. Yet still, I cannot deny that it has also brought so much good.

During the manic episode my love for nature was remembered. My real home here on earth. Where I lose my fears, anxieties, sadness, grief and instead I see how small my problems are and how big God is. How beautiful and intentional he created nature to be for us. How incredibly restorative it is to pause on the responsibilities of this life and lose yourself in his creation.

To reacquaint yourself with the unpaved paths, the scent of floral trees picked up by the air that surrounds your body and fills your breath. To hear their whisper as they brush against each other to welcome you home. Where conversation has depth but words are never spoken. Where you’re dreaming vividly, with your eyes open. To place your hand in a stream with a current and feel it dance and curl between your fingers.

I am homesick when I am away, can you understand why?

I know what it means to be so devoid of life that you beg and plead with God to take it. I don’t have instructions for a way out, everyone’s journey is different. Though two journeys can have commonalities they can never be the same. Faithfully love those with souls that are at war and you will discover that it is everyone you can love.