Dark.

Dark and isolating.

Dark, isolating, and empty.

Here I am on my eighth concussion. Yes, I’ve had eight. No, I’m not brain dead. Just scared.

Scared of the aftermath.

Scared of the long term effects.

Scared of the severity of this one.

Probably shouldn’t be typing this right now but at this point… whatever.

Somewhere in the pain and misery of this day.

Somewhere in the wallowing and self-pity.

Something in the confusion and disorientation.

I felt Him.

I felt a breath enter my lungs.

I felt a breath push oxygen to my injured brain.

I began to see the beauty.

I began to see the beauty in the madness.

I began to see the broken fragments of my soul being intricately put back together.

Every time I’m scared, He finds me.

Every time I feel alone, He finds me.

Every time, every time, every time.

Hallelujah, He is here.

Hallelujah, He found me when I wanted to stay lost.

Hallelujah, He pulls me home