I’m debating whether it’s worth fixing my sleep schedule for the rest of winter break. I currently lack any motivation to sleep even though I’m weary to the bone.

Leetle tidbits:

[eyes] heavy and swollen from lack of sleep and fits of crying. The sandman is here and when I blink, it’s hard to open them again. Yet, I want to stay awake.

[confusion] half the time, I don’t understand why I’m crying. I don’t know if it’s coming from my (stupid, turbulent, annoying) emotions or from the Spirit. Most of the times it’s during prayer and other times out of nowhere. A name, a memory, a thought. Triggers everywhere.

[calm] when I turn to the Word for healing. It’s fascinating how reading the Bible is always able to provide me with immeasurable peace. The moment I am able to focus on Him instead of myself, that is when the peace comes. That is when the clarity and understanding and healing comes.

[a feeling I cannot describe] when it is after I come back from the beach and go through my pictures that I realize I forgot to thank God for the ocean, for the beach, for the weather, for the people who willingly accompanied me in the early hours of the morning to watch an invisible sunrise in the cold of winter. I forgot Him in my happiness and when I finally remembered, it was the most nauseating feeling. I owe Him all my thanks, awe, joy; I did not remember Him until hours after the sun had risen.

[company] in the most unexpected of forms. Perhaps the Lord understands that I no longer want to be alone.

[tender] is Michelle’s touch as she plays with my hair and massages my scalp. My heart leaps for joy when I see her standing in the doorway of my room; her embrace is warm and kind and I pray one day I would be able to melt others’ coldness as she does for me.

[Vivian] cradles my head in her arms as she plays TriviaCrack on my phone. No intelligible sounds come out of our mouths as we spew nonsense at each other in our sleep deprived states. There’s a conversation in there somewhere, I’m sure, but I still marvel at the absurdness of our friendship.

[worry] for the people I care about and I don’t think they understand how sincerely I care. I wish I could express it to them (in bold block capital letters) but always the coward in me is reluctant to reveal such a part of my heart.

[grace] abounds and overwhelms me; when I am slow to come to Him, He is quick to remind me that He is there. In prayer, He aligns my heart with His and it is ironic to find that in the breaking of my heart, God’s deepest love is able to be revealed to me.

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