Isn’t it wild how our minds can settle; And our world settles; How we can go from minds that feel blank and bodies that are tired, emotions that are overloaded to a point they’re numb, to a semblance of ok-ness. I’ve seen it happen so many times for myself that it gets easier in the ‘heavy’ to trust that it will end.

Am I well? To some extent. Two months of pulling back from most anything that was not absolutely necessary, failing to answer texts, avoiding most anything social, dropping so many balls that I’m sure I’ll spend the next six months trying to put back the pieces from that. And it was worth it. Because for the last two weeks I have woken up and felt something. The numbness and fear is fading. Home feels safe. I even started working out again this week. Being with people feels good again.

My capacity – or my window of tolerance as a wise counselor once taught me, is expanding. And I’m grateful.

It’s nice to have the energy to move my body, respond to texts, schedule nights with friends, be there for others again. I needed to protect my personhood to move past the trauma I’ve been feeling. And yet I’m also glad to see my patterns of self-preservation being to dim.

It feels good to laugh.

It feels good to be in a group of people and not be looking for an escape.

It feels good to think again with my brain buzzing.

All will be well.

I trusted this as our world shifted. I trusted it as we realized our Richmond home wasn’t a place we could stay. I trusted it as we struggled to find a new place to live. I trusted it as things changed daily and I lost my security and feelings of belonging. It’s a truth that is familiar and tried and tested: All will be well. God sees what is happening and He is here in the midst. He understands what I don’t. He can be trusted. All will be well.