It isn’t much longer after we find happiness again that we feel ourselves falling back down to the bottom of it all. The scariest part? We still have our mailbox down there. Our welcome mats. Our doorsteps still have those cracks in them that kinda scare you into thinking there’s something much more scarier than that place and we just haven’t kissed depression hard enough on the mouth yet to get there.

But you know what’s a lie? The lie is that once you fall back into that just-warm-enough bed, you will never ever want to leave. You will never ever escape. You will never ever get a chance to see your problems face to face. The lie that there will never be enough stones from rock bottom to skip across the pond; keep skipping rocks until one of them makes a sound loud enough for search and rescue. There are rocks being thrown from every moonlit sidewalk and coffee shop, enough to make a noise loud enough that the angels tell God to shut us up.

There is no eureka moment in brokenness. There is wanting, there is learning, and there is growing.

We’ll grow up to not want anything anymore. We’ll learn then what we need.