I have always walked with God, but that does not mean it has been a saintly life. The walk with God includes stumbling and crawling on your scrapped and bloody hands and knees through the depths of hell and dark nights of the soul.
Through the deepest griefs and terminal sufferings, through the excesses of food, shopping, sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling, oversleeping, depression, all those dark crevices we go to hide where one tries to outrun the pain- I could never outrun nor satisfy the void that consumed me over and over.
Nothing ever filled the void, nothing outside myself.
It was filled with and by the very one who walked beside me in the depths of my darkness and upon the heights of my joys. God.
The void within held the answer to its filling I had to go into the voids to find it. Reclaim it. Pull it out like a flag of surrender and victory all at once. Love.
And the Love of the One who walked beside me on my journey taught me how to walk the walk of love. That mirror of whom walked with me and never left me abandoned in the depths.
To remain in the depths of darkness and the darkest nights of the soul in familiar comfort of the pain that is, not walking with God, nor is it Love. For it is in those depths of suffering we scream for the release of it into the wisdom from it and rise up to continue our walk with God-to heights one never thought possible. That path is called Love.