Storms.

I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship. – Louisa May Alcott

I couldn’t stop screaming.

Even after I woke up, the horror of my nightmare refused to let me go. Keeping my eyes open was bad; closing them was much worse. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, caught in an sleepless cycle of staring out into the darkness and fitfully drifting off, only to wake up gasping for breath all over again.

The next day, I floated through classes, not really focusing on anything at all. At some point, I wandered into the bathroom, and my only distinct memory of that day was seeing the absolute despair and emptiness swirling around in my eyes, making the grey inside seem much darker than it naturally was.

No one seemed to notice. Even the people that were usually quite observant never said anything. I still wonder if they couldn’t see it, or if they didn’t care to.

I didn’t sleep for three more days. Every night, I woke up screaming. Every night, I couldn’t breathe. Every night, I wanted nothing more than to stop running from the darkness that insufferably embraced me. But I couldn’t. I’d never really been able to.

Exhaustion, in every sense of the word, had soaked into my bones. I didn’t know how long I could fight it. I was desperate, tired, and weak. So I turned to the one thing that, until this point, I’d been too stubborn to consider.

That night I collapsed onto the ground with my Bible and started reading.

“There arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but Jesus was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, ‘Save us, Lord; we are perishing.’ And he said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’ Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, ‘What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?'” -Matthew 8:23-27

Desperation and unshed tears choked my voice as I cried out, “Save me, Lord.”

I knew I was drowning. I knew beyond a doubt that I couldn’t save myself from this storm. And I knew, down to the deepest part of my soul, that He was the only one who could rescue me.

And He did. My storms, though I couldn’t see over the waves that tried to bury me, were easily quelled for Him.

That night, there was a great calm.

I slept better than I had in a very long time.

 

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