*Before I begin, it is important to note that this particular post may be more of a musing than a lesson, and may contain more questions than answers. But I hope you’ll stick with me until the end.*

I have been teetering on the edge of this imaginary fence of joy and sorrow for months now. This past Saturday morning I finally lost my footing and fell to one side. I’ve tried putting on the face that would make the world think I fell to the side of joy, but I didn’t. After all, do I even have the right to be joyful?

I had this thought this morning: I have absolutely NO ONE to talk to. I have no one to sound off to who GETS it. I have no one to cry to who might have been in this place and can show me how to navigate it. No one. I quickly had another thought right behind all of those: I wonder if Jesus is sad that I’m not considering Him to be that Someone.

I shared my internal struggle with a few of my friends who were happier for me than I could bring myself to be. I tried grabbing on to their joy and using it to claw my way to the other side of that fence with no luck. I cannot seem to get a firm enough grip. I’m only finding myself with sore muscles at the climb and no progress at joining everyone on the other side. And I mean everyone.

I have this picture in my mind…(and I couldn’t find a picture to help illustrate it.)

There is a ten-foot high fence, and I am standing alone on one side listening to the BIGGEST celebration happening on the other. I hear the laughter and happy tears that I want so desperately to be a part of taking place without me. I hear a baby cry as so many voices rush to soothe it. I hear many congratulations being offered to someone who is not me. I try peeking through the slats of this fence but I can’t see a thing. I’m only tormented by the sound.

But am I tormenting myself? I don’t really know.

What I do know is that I don’t know how to feel. It is NOT as simple as just being happy, being joyful that this miracle has taken place. It is not. And for anyone to tell me that I just need to be happy is absolute BS.

I am grieving my choices that have brought me to this place of…what? Jealousy? Regret? Guilt? Shame?

I don’t really find anywhere in scripture where Jesus experienced this same exact situation. But…I do see so many places where He was abandoned and left by His friends before the cross. I see where even His own Father had to turn His face from Him ON the cross.

I think that’s how I feel this morning. I feel abandoned. I feel alone in the world, left to navigate this new season by myself. Jesus may have always known who He was, where He was supposed to go, and what His purpose was meant to be, but He was still abandoned by people. The very same people who professed their love and devotion to Him just hours before He endured the cross.

Unlike Jesus, I don’t know who I am supposed to be in this, or what His purpose is for me in it and through it. And that hasn’t just built a fence between me and this joy that I’m seeking…it’s built a wall. A carefully crafted wall with more bricks of uncertainty than anything else.

*Sigh*

I’m not walking away from this post with sudden joy, y’all. I’m not walking away with plans to dismantle this wall I’ve built. I’m not walking away with a sudden burst of confidence in what might come next. But I am walking away with a little bit more comfort that I’m in good company…comfort in knowing my Savior, Jesus Christ, was abandoned and left all alone, too, and He knows how this feels.

Thank you for letting me share.