The following was written about 2 months after I left home:
“1:23 pm…
I don’t know which direction to think. I keep thinking of you, Brittany. I keep seeing you. In the characters in the books I read, in the stores I enter. In the future, your frail hands, maybe touching mine, maybe making the bed. I see you in the present, but I can’t tell what you’re doing. I want to see, but I’m afraid. Maybe you’re in pain, maybe you’re happy. I don’t know which hurts more. I don’t care what hurts me more, I hope you are thinking of me either way. Or maybe not. Please don’t if it hurts. But do.
7:35 pm…
I think I’m disappearing. Everyone else is too. I’m transcending. Evaporating. It’s more scary than ever. People keep disappearing. Books are about me. God speaks to me and everyone is gone. I see them, I meet them, then *poof, gone.
Everything I’ve known, gone. What is ‘crazy’? I feel crazy. I do stuff, then it’s gone. Days are gone. Clothes are gone. My past is gone. New people. Same reaction. As soon as they “see” me, they’re gone.
This world is not real. Or very temporary. Which lines up with God’s Word. But also, people think I’m very wrong. Which also lines up with God’s Word. The issue now; What’s next? I don’t want to move. I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want tomorrow. I hate being so… “wrong,” and feeling so “right.”
Nothing is real anymore. Jesus is real. Words are real.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. How do I survive this? Maybe it’s not really real?
My life is just a blink. And I hate it.
2 Corinthians 3:18- “The Lord – who is the Spirit – makes us more and more like Him as we are changed into His glorious image.”
“Transcending.”
This is incredible. My vision is changing.
Early on, (a few months ago) I earnestly asked God for my family to join me in salvation. I remember clearly. I was standing in the kitchen at {our old house}. I cried out. Literally in tears as they slept. God answered;
“You have what you ask for because you do not ask it selfishly.”
I will see my family again. Even if it’s after I die.
My eyes are different. Looking outwardly, the world is not the same. I am evaporating.
If you read this Brittany, I love you. Only because God loves me. That’s how I know love, because I’m dying into God’s love. I can’t escape it now. My life is over. I don’t know how long I have left, but soon, it’ll only be God. And I’ve let go. So I’m going to grab the pages of God’s Word with my teeth and let the world disappear, even as I myself disappear.
A quote, (read on page 305 of “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close”), after what I just wrote…
“Albert Einstein, a hero of mine, once wrote,
“Our situation is the following; We are standing in front of a closed box which we cannot open.”
I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the vast majority of the universe is composed of dark matter. The fragile balance depends on things we’ll never be able to see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. Life itself depends on them. What’s real? What isn’t real? Maybe those aren’t the right questions to be asking.
What does life depend on?
I wish I had made things for life to depend on.
You’re friend, Stephen Hawking”
I’m making words into actions. Jesus’ words into Jesus actions. For life to depend on them. I want to kick my pride.
I quote Psalm 131: 1- “My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty.””
(End entry)
Perfection is an abstract word to us, but a perfect life is made up of all kinds of experiences, not just good ones.
Sometimes trying and failing is part of love.
Praise God for new beginnings.
–Home–
From Death to Life 
Leave a comment