Hi Friends! It’s Donna here with another insightful blog from Katie Woolsey, my pen pal in prison. This gave me some perspective about what it must be like to be in a prison cell, so far from home, family and children. It also gives us all a perspective about the teen or young adult who may be struggling with these same issues! Our minds are still active and the vast chasm between thinking and doing must be unbearable at times. But for God’s grace! Please pray for her, and others in her situation. It helps!
You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.
As a child in the night I required a night light. I sucked my thumb with one sleepy eye fixed on the semi-open door. I convinced myself that if the door was open even a little, my parents would hear my screams, should whatever I felt lurking there decide to devour me. Because, you know, those things are highly likely to a child in the night. In my yester years, “Jesus Loves Me” was my lullaby.
As a teenager at night, I stayed up way too late absorbed in books. Many nights I felt consumed with high school anxiety, afraid I’ll never find my place in this world. As a teenager, in the night, I lay awake figuring out who I was. But I still darted to the bathroom while looking over my shoulder.
As a young adult in the night, I used the darkness to hide the things I’d become all to familiar with. In the dark I consumed my first bottle of rum, and puked it up while everyone was sleeping. In the night I indulged in cigarettes and bad company. As a young adult in the night, a young monster was gradually preparing it’s debut.
Then suddenly, as a young adult one night I became a young mother. I learned what it felt like to love someone other than myself. For the time being, that night the monster decided to quietly take the scenic route. I eventually spent the nights becoming the mother of three. It’s as if overnight I grew my family but deep down started loosing parts of myself again. In the night I dispaired over a toxic relationship and pain that just wouldn’t stop.
As a full adult in the night the monster was given full reign. Once again, in the night the darkness gave the green light to delights I chose not to resist. As an adult in the night, my children slept under another roof, and I with anyone whom I felt would fill the void. It’s like overnight I gave up completely. In the night I woke up with a needle still hanging out of my arm and a cigarette smoldering in the very couch I overdosed on. Those were the nights I lamented my ruins of my own self but continued to do so anyways. Those were the nights that were dark and quiet, but the voice of the monster inside my head would not be silenced.
Today as an adult I look out of my prison cell window. When it’s completely quiet I can hear a dog barking, or the voices of families in their yards. Sometimes I can smell a grill firing up or the smoke of a campfire. At night I’m still, but when I smell these smalls and hear these sounds, my heart races. In the still of the night these triggers release a cascade of memories that I have left far behind. In the night the prison is mostly quiet and if I quiet my heart enough I can hear that still, small voice reminding me to let it go. To let go and let Him. Until sweet slumber overtakes me, I sit in the night praying myself out of worry of tomorrow.
Tonight I force myself not to fret about all the tomorrows. Tonight I look over my shoulder at all those nights past and I think, “I made it through all that.” By grace, I did. Tomorrow will be tomorrow. The night says grace saw me through another day.
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