When reality is something unbearable

Falling asleep in the arms of God

trigger warning: self harm

“Watermelons, peaches, pears and other fruit in a landscape” by Giovanni Stanchi

I’m not sure why, but I read two separate Substacks about suicide today. They came up organically for me, just from browsing. One was from someone who once contemplated the act, another was from someone who lost someone they love to it.

I hate that humanity needs a word like suicide; that there was ever a circumstance which necessitated its creation.

—

I have attended multiple funerals for people who have succumbed to the grimace of this tragedy. I have remembered the warmth of their hugs, and I have cried in their absence.

I don’t understand why God doesn’t just put a stop to all of it.

When everything fades and reality is something unbearable, I do not have any answers. I only have attempts to sit with God and sit with loved ones and cry.

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I don’t know why I’m sharing any of this. I guess I’m trying to find the words to say that existence in this world can be so lonely, and I also want to say that if the loneliness gets to be too much, I hope you will remember—in some miraculous way—that you are worthy and loved by me—this random guy on the internet—and by a God that is utterly relational, closer than a brother, a saver-from-death.

God’s love is vaster than we can ever imagine.

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When I was little, my parents used to lay down with me as I fell asleep. They would hold me against their bodies until my little body began to dream.

Sometimes, when they weren’t home or weren’t able to lay down with me, I would fall asleep imagining God holding me. I’d imagine God wrapping me up in God’s arms and gently holding all of me. Then I would fall asleep.

I will be praying tonight that you—whoever you are—can feel God holding you. I’m going to be praying that tonight—maybe for the first time—you will feel like a five-year-old against the body of God. That you will be able to release any self-hatred or fear or shame into the fathomless, bottomless, endless embrace of God.

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The imago Dei is alive and humming in your rib cage right now. In a bleak world, the love of God lights up the sky.

You do not need to earn this love. You only need to receive it.

I’m praying for you tonight. That love is palpable. That God is palpable. That love exists and you will be reminded of it.

Please keep going.

You are loved.