My Marriage Mirage

I got up this morning and that cut on my finger, the one made by the serrated knife, ached almost as much as that wretched eternal organ that tells me to feel things that hurt. 

I don't want to hurt. 

Who does? 

I want to grin and bear it but in the midst of bearing it, I want its weight to lessen, its hold on me to diminish. 

I am tired of tear-tired eyes every morning when I wake. I don't want to go to sleep wishing he'd loved me like he was supposed to. 

I want to know that the One who does love me is so much greater, and so much more worth waking up to, than that fanciful wish-it-were-so-marriage-mirage that plagues me. 

I need my Savior to be so real in my head and heart and tongue that the pain humanity brings is light and momentary compared to His joy. 

This is a struggle so much deeper than confessed faith. Confessed faith is mere air when it isn't lived faith. 

I need renewal of the mind and spirit. 

I need Him to replace him. 

Lord help me, I pray!