You have a story. Maybe it’s not a very good one. Maybe it’s not one that you’re proud of, or maybe it could be better. No one knows it, or will ever understand it to its fullest capacity, better than you. You may never know what it feels like to be enslaved to something, to have it poison your thoughts with its relentless whispers, to have it own you and comfort your heart while simultaneously ripping it out. You may never have something grip you so tightly that you forget how to breathe without the inaudible taunting of your each inhale. You may not know that feeling. You may still only see a semicolon.
The semicolon’s place in the world is to maintain the consistency and fluidity of the sentence. It was designed to carry the weight of the pause, the reflection, the setback. It is never equipped for an ending, nor can it substitute for one. It has no place at the end of a thought beyond its designated role. It’s the quiet place before the thought continues. The thought must continue beyond the semicolon.
I absolutely love how this tiny punctuation mark is becoming a place of peace and love for those in the process of pausing or for those who have lost someone to the perpetual quiet. This movement (Project Semicolon) provides an embrace for those who fight the fight against suicide, addiction, depression, and self-injury. The burden of bloodshed–of anguish and torment–that brings someone to a semicolon is deafening.
I have lost friends to addiction, I have watched the losing suffer in their anguish, and I have overcome my own pause, the moment of transition, the weight that set out to overpower, the pressure of distress–my semicolon. It is a scary place to find yourself unsure of what your capabilities are and to seem numb to their consequences. I have learned that burden can break bodies but not spirit, and no matter how many friends or loved ones try to pull you from the wreckage, they can’t. Even if you are begging them to and hoping they succeed–it’s impossible if you aren’t ready to walk away from the devastation. I chose God, and I watched Him accomplish what no one else could: He pushed me through the pause.
It’s impossible to know exactly where another person is in his/her life, but there is enough hope to go around for us all. My wish, if this speaks to you, is that you know how worthwhile you are and how much weight that semicolon can actually carry. I may not know the circumstances, but I know that there is no pause too great for the God who delivers me. I’ll be praying for you tonight wherever you are in your narrative.
“The righteous cry, and the Lord hears
And delivers them out of all their troubles.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
And saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
But the Lord delivers him out of them all.”
Psalm 34:17-19
God Bless,
Megan
Blue Withens 