I just....love the idea of Peter walking on water being about grief and faith. It's such a beautiful take.
Because when you experience grief you are yelling about how much faith you have, screaming with rage about it because how could this happen when you have been so faithful?
And then you see the darkness and the sadness and the pain, just like how Peter saw the waves and the wind, and you cry out for the Lord because you're scared he's not there
Andd just when you think you're going to drown, He is there and has been all along and you never want to let go.
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Book: The Pain of Healing by Samantha Camargo on amazon 💛
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The poems and platitudes of wiser men. Musings on sadness and loss... Studied and memorised...and meaningless in the moment.
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"A time to get and a time to lose," Jessica thought. "A time to keep and a time to cast away; a time for love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace"
She brushed the tears coursing down her cheeks, thought: What a stupid waste of the body's water! But she knew this thought for what it was-the attempt to retreat from grief into anger. Leto, my Leto she thought. What terrible things we do to those we love!
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There’s no option for results or not taking a position.
Reblog for sample size.
Reblog so you can check the results if you’re curious.
If you have negative things to say about suicide or suicide notes kindly keep it to yourself. Mature discussions only.
Let’s talk about it.
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Grief is a lifeboat
I am safe but all alone
lost in the ocean,
seeking shore.
I am hungry, weak
running out of sustenance soon.
I am thirsty, my throat is dry
I cannot drink the salt water.
Clustered in a computer lab,
we started our lecture on Grief & Loss.
My grief is a row behind, 2 seats to the left
if he was a knight he could advance, attack.
He has armor, sure, not of shining steel,
just the façade he hides behind.
Grief is a storm
rolling in overhead.
I can't always feel the rain pouring
but I know it's coming.
It's not always dark and cloudy
but storm clouds linger.
It's the numbness
but threat of agony.
He knows no code of chivalry
but still lingers back to open doors for me
trying to keep my pace down the hall, the stairs.
Today was the first time he spoke to me
since I drove off in a storm, sobbing,
hoping my windshield wipers would work.
I'd rather leave and sit on the side of the road
than let him keep me another night, telling me it's not safe to drive.
Grief is an open wound
I clean and bandage it,
try to keep the dressing dry
I thought it was healing
but it's bleeding, oozing.
Rip off the bandaid
it'll only hurt for a second
clean and dress the wound.
Don't let infection set in.
My grief, your loss // Grazia Curcuru
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Book: The Pain of Healing by Samantha Camargo on amazon 💛
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"With his tropically torrid, thunderously locomotive “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea”, Jeff Mangum grabbed together this nostalgia and this grief as one great and terrible prayer and inscribed it deep in the heart of indie rock, and we are all still healing."
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Trigger warnings in the tags
>> NEXT
<< PREVIOUS
<< BACK TO THE START
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Smoke Signals // for J. and P.
by - kisses-from-crows
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