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When The Rain Comes…

When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away
When the night falls you wonder if you shouldn’t find someplace
To run and hide, Escape the pain
But hiding’s such a lonely thing to do

I can’t stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can’t stop the rain, but I will hold you till it goes away

When the rain comes you blame it on the things that you have done
When the storm fades you know the rain has fall’n on everyone
So rest a while, It’ll be alright
No one loves you like I do

I can’t stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can’t stop the rain, But I will hold you,
I can’t stop the rain from falling down on you again
I can’t stop the rain, But I will hold you till it goes away

When the rain comes… I will hold you.

I’ve had this song on my heart today. It’s made me highly emotional, and highly comforted.

I can’t describe how hard this past week has been. Something inside of me has broken loose, and not necessarily in a good way. But this song reminds me that he is there and even though I’ve screamed and thrashed about in the storm… he’s still holding me, keeping me still in spite of my instinct to lash out or just run away.

I told (or rather shouted at) God the other night, in a screaming fit I was having in the car that “No one would even know what my life was really like if I died right now. Everyone would say how great of a person I was or how talented or artistic I was… but no one would even know what struggles I face each day.”
Why wouldn’t they, you ask? Because I act.
It’s in my genetic make-up to pretend everything’s okay. I struggle with it everyday. When someone asks me, “How are you?” my automatic response is “I’m fine, How are you?” Whether I’m fine or not.
And when I’m saying that, I’m thinking of how I really am. And then I feel like I’m lying.
However, it’s also a thing of mine to not complain, so even if my meal’s wrong at a restaurant or my day is crappy, I’m not going to unload on the first unsuspecting person who asks me how I am. It’s rude. So I act.

The things is… I’m so sick of acting. I want people to know how the truth about the life I lead.
I do hope after reading all of that you don’t think I’ve gone off the deep end, my life is not something to be ashamed of or to hide. It’s hard and it sucks sometimes, but there’s absolutely no sense to me in pretending like my life is easy.

On the outside, I feel like everyone sees me as the one who has it all together, the “good girl” who has everything going for her and the world at her finger tips.
Hah. I have to laugh at that. If you think that about me, please tell me why. Because you see, I’m none of those things. Not yet at least. I know I have the potential to be, and I pretend to be those things because it’s what’s been expected of me my whole life… but this time around I’m finally going to shove “I’m fine” down the drain and be real with people.

Does that mean I’m going to word vomit on everyone how asks me how I am? Nah. Though sometimes I wish I could. In fact, I have no idea how NOT to pretend like everything is okay and still be a happy person. It seems that I link being a happy person to not being a negative burden or being enthusiastic and outgoing. In retrospect, being happy is none of those things. They might be a side-effect or a product of happiness, but being happy isn’t produced through them. I think what’s going on is that I feel like I have to be those things in order to be happy and instead of seeking out happiness to find them, I’m using them to try and be happy.
And you guessed it. It’s not working. I’m not happy.

I feel guilty even saying those last three words. I have so much to be thankful for and happy about. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and three weeks later we get the news that she’s cancer free! Isn’t that something to be happy about? Or that I have a bright future ahead, I’m breathing, I’m provided for, and I have a loving, supportive family? All of that is great, astounding, and makes me amazed at my Savior.
Why aren’t I smiling today? Why haven’t I been smiling for the past week?

I seriously think it’s time to re-prioritize. My life is running me. The above song speaks of storms, yes. But it also says, “So rest a while, It’ll be alright.” — I can’t tell you what “rest” is anymore.
I’m so overloaded with school, church, friends, and family that I’ve sacrificed my daily devotions. I read the bible today for the first time in a week and a half. My prayer time last night consisted of screaming at the top of my lungs, speeding down a dark road, not caring if I somehow veered into on-coming traffic or lost control of my vehicle. Now if that doesn’t scream CRAZY than I don’t know what does.
I don’t normally do things like that. I admit to having thoughts of suicide before, and I’ve even attempted it once when I was younger, but last night was different. I recognized it, let it sift for about a minute and then slowed back down to 60mph. Last night I was enraged beyond the reality of committing suicide. And for that split second that I didn’t care about anyone but myself, I realized something.

I get no rest because I can’t put myself above others. If you need something, I’m there for you. Always. If it puts me out, I don’t care, I will do anything (within reason) to help you. I can’t bring myself to tell you no. I don’t want to let you down. If I let you down, you’ll think lesser of me. I don’t want you to think lesser of me… So I constantly try to do things for you and be there all the time so I can be considered a good friend. I put everything I have into it. I want your acceptance.
It’s a blessing and a curse. Because my spirit says all of that. My flesh however doesn’t give a crap about anyone but herself. She’s pessimistic and cruel. She’s insecure and spiteful. She doesn’t care at all.

That being the case, I can’t just start telling people no, for it is then that my flesh takes over and tells everyone no, even God. But something has to be done. I’ve concluded that certain ministries, certain activities, and certain friends will have to take a back seat in my life. I’m going to have to bite the bullet and prune my spiritual tree.
If I could have a finger in every pie, and still be sane, you better believe I would. I love being involved. I adore it even. I love helping others, and feeling needed, and unfortunately, I also love to be recognized for good deeds.
Yes, another REAL fact you may not know about me. I’m severely vane. I don’t think I’ve ever stated that anywhere. I may have hinted at it or eluded to it… but this blog seems to be a coming out of sorts for the ugly me that no one sees… so why not?

Regardless of the fact that I’m no where near ready for finals in two weeks, or that I’m solely depended on by my family right now in my mother’s incapacitated recovery (despite being the youngest), or that I’m constantly helping out different ministries to the point that my heart isn’t in half of it…
Past the fact that my daily devotions have almost ceased majorly for the first time in three years…
Past all of this rain that’s falling down on me again…

When the rain comes… I will hold you.

About chroniclestudios

I live. I breath. I write. It's not my first of passions, but it certainly fuels my largest passions: God and Art. Being a 20-something photographer from Nashville, TN; it's easy to get used to your environment, living in a generalized world. But I prefer to pour a strong cup of coffee and relentlessly study each nuance life brings. Then I am more equipped to show it to you.

One response to “When The Rain Comes…

  1. kevin lyell ⋅

    :O o_O_o_O (singing)

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