At what cost?

I find myself constantly feeling as though I am on the outside looking in. Participating but not really a part. Present but not included.

I don’t fit.

I find myself  becoming edgy in my exhaustion. Feeling the emptiness of being spent.

And I ask: why? What compels me to stay here? What keeps me in this place of murky solidarity that has flares of mimicked connection?

That in the solidarity I am not alone. That God can use me here. That I am most useful when I am weakest. That not feeling included keeps me sensitive to the needs of others who feel the same. Not being a part reminds me who I am relying on and Who I rely on.

At what cost?

At all cost.

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