Keeping God Out

The hardest thing

is living with the memory of my mother’s death.

I was going to say that

but Really…

The hardest part is the memory of my father-in-laws suicide

and the upcoming anniversary

But really…

The hardest part is realizing my father is gone

and won’t be coming back;

But Really…

The hardest part is watching my son struggle with PTSD

when I promised myself his life would be devoid of devastating pain.

It is all hard.

All of it.

There is no easy way out of any of this

and all of it comes back round to drugs and alcohol abuse.

Alcoholism is hard.

Living with alcoholics and drug addicts is hard.

Living with the past is hard.

Quitting is hard.

Staying quit;


Which brings me to the Real Hardest Thing:

Feeling alone.

And I don’t mean in a room by myself.

I mean


My parents are both dead and God seems so far away.

I am holding my own hand;

not in prayer;

but clenched




I am holding my own hand

and keeping my God out.

THAT is the hardest thing.

That hardest thing?

That is a waste of time.

I may be holding my own hand,

but that hand belongs to  God.

My God,

the God of the New Testament,

the Koran, the Torah,

the Bhagavad Gita,

the Higgs Boson,

and the rituals of  Pagans,

my God,

is holding my hands

Clenched tight or no;

God wants in.

Keeping God Out?

That is the Hardest Thing.

Peace,  Jen

~ by Step On a Crack on February 3, 2012.

24 Responses to “Keeping God Out”

  1. I so enjoy your writings! Thank you for sharing from your soul! (((Jen)))


  2. Holding you hand too, if i may? XO melis


  3. So true, it is the hardest thing. And why do we try to keep him out? I’ve wrestled with it too much. Fortunately, he’s had the strength to endure my turning. This was lovely, Jen.


    • Debby,
      Thank you for being here.

      Indeed. Why? I can’t figure it out. God gave us free will. I use that option way to often right now.

      I know God is actually there and that in my turning away there is a Gift.

      Time will tell when I will choose to see the Gift and accept it.

      XO Jen


  4. Dearest Jen – We finally have internet again – just in time to gather you close in my heart and in my prayers. The problem with clenched fists is that they only hold whips of air – and even that isn’t ours. The God who loves you so very much won’t pry your fingers open (I think I love Him all the more for that), but His hand is always aching to hold yours when you’re ready. I would give anything to carry this pain for you and let you rest, but that’s not a gift that I can give. I’m not much of a warrior, but I am your committed friend, always.


    • Oh I beg to differ! You are a Warrior!

      Your words are always a warriors words. I love ‘wisps of air’ and you are right; that too, is Gods.

      Somehow I know this is all Gods plan.

      Thank you!

      I am delighted you have landed. I will head over soon to get the update!

      XO Jen


  5. This post made me feel not alone, so thank you for writing it! It’s been a few days since I have had the luxury of coming on to read your wonderfully-written words, but I thought I would start with this most recent one.

    Thoughts I had while reading:

    Some days I don’t really realize how much PTSD I am living with from living with an alcoholic (a now-sober alcoholic), but then something triggers it and BOOM, I am right back in those feelings. I really underestimate how much 2.5 years of living with the active alcoholism impacted me. I can’t imagine what it must be like for children living in the circumstances of having a parent who is an alcoholic and growing up with it. It was hard enough for me to handle as an adult.

    I know there is a tough anniversary coming up. Tough for so very many reasons. I’m sorry about the pain and stress your son has to live with because of it — the stress and loss you all have to live with.

    About the only thing that keeps me going thinking of how kids (and grownups) can hurt is that the god of the Higgs Boson (LOVE that) somehow is working in coordination in all of our lives to help us get the learning our souls want. Any other explanation to me just makes me want to give up.

    Anyway. I relate to this post in so many ways. Thank you for pouring out your feelings and words so that we can share them with you.


    • Mrs. D!

      I too believe the Higgs Boson holds it all together for us. I count on that.

      PTSD. It is a bitch. I am so sorry you too have to live with it! It is incredible to me what a demon it can be. PTSD is programmed to survive. I have had tremendous success using EMDR and Brain Spotting to alleviate the power it has over my life BUT it is pricey and would take years to work through all my triggers.

      I really need to make sure my life is trigger free as much as possible.

      All we as PTSD folks can do, I think, is be aware and acknowledge its presence. We can’t pretend it isn’t part of our make up you know?

      Thank you SO much Mrs. D for being here and for Really empathizing with all the junk. Death anniversaries are always hard. This one is a ….

      Horse of another color.

      PTSD. Big deal and so subtle on the outside; destructive on the inside.

      Take care my friend! Hang tight.



  6. thank you.


  7. Good God 😉

    In holding your hand, you hold all of ours because we are all of us with you in spirit…


  8. “clenched tight or no, God wants in.” He does indeed.

    My Higher Power doesn’t argue or cajole or convince.. He waits. It’s my Lower Power that does all the fancy footwork. Sometimes I get distracted from He who waits. I’m glad you’re not too distracted to know the truth.


    • The Truth is knocking on my old heart. I am grateful for that knocker installed at birth

      I am working those old steps. I am trying to balance telling my truth with emotional sobriety.

      Higher Power will help with that!

      Thank you for your support and loving guidance

      XO jen


  9. Maybe sometimes we see new perspectives of God by backing up, which could also look like pulling away. It’s true that our holding him at bay actually means he’s nearby, waiting. It is a mystery that to feel the comfort of his presence, we must risk the discomfort of letting him in. Makes me think of Francis Thompson’s poem, The Hound of Heaven.

    Your pace is yours, and it’s okay. ~ Paulann


    • Paulann, I love your phrase “to feel the comfort of his presence, we must risk the discomfort of letting him in.” How true. May I share that with others? I think those we work with in recovery could relate strongly.


    • I was thinking about this yesterday. After my father-in-law committed suicide I had my first real real crisis in faith. with 7 years hindsight I can see that my faith was stronger for it. I am trusting that this is again; trial by fire.

      I will look up the Poem tonight! thank you!


  10. […] My Kid needs me […]


  11. […] Keeping God Out […]


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