The Bitter Cup That Never Ends
Taking a Knee
I don’t know how to explain this, but here it goes.
I’m taking a knee from everything—work, life, responsibilities—to focus on my wellness at a recovery facility. No, I’m not addicted to any substances. It’s my literal brain and mind. They broke. I need help.
My spirit was shattered.
Jackie Hill Perry reminded me today that I can’t keep blaming my trauma for how I respond to the circumstances I find myself in. That hit hard. I loved the wrong person for a long time, and they betrayed me in the most brutal, humiliating way. What I had left was nothing but empty devotion.
When “Us” Became Only Me
My entire life shifted—from us to only me. And the truth is, I had grown dependent on this person in ways I didn’t realize. Now, there’s so much that needs to be rebuilt.
This isn’t my first valley, but this one hits different. I’ve started calling it the bitter cup. I drink from it daily, and it never ends.
I used to tell myself, “Think of heaven and the reward that is to come.” But guess what? That’s not enough anymore. For the first time in my life, I thirst in pain for the New Jerusalem. I want Jesus to come back and wipe away my tears, take my pain, and be my sun for eternity.
Now I understand why Jesus said, “If it’s possible, let this cup pass from Me…”
My Dad Once Asked Me
I remember my dad, Dave, once asking during Bible study,
“Have you ever suffered like Christ on the way to the cross? Have you ever sweated blood?”
At the time, I didn’t understand. But now I know there’s scientific proof: extreme emotional or physical stress, acute fear, or intense anxiety can cause this rare condition.
No, I haven’t sweated blood. But I’ve felt levels of anguish and dread so intense they’ve brought me to my knees. I’ve cried in front of my mother, needed her to hold me through the night, and wailed like a child.
The Questions That Haunt Me
Was it love?
How could I be fooled?
How did I become so dependent?
Why did they do this to me?
Where is my honor?
I’m not being kind to myself in my mind right now. But for the first time, I’ve been honest with my mom. We’re alike in many ways—same personality, different expressions. She shows emotion outwardly. I don’t. But she’s listening. She’s trying. And I’m pouring my life into her hands.
My Body Said “Enough”
Thankfully, my body stepped in and told me I needed more than just crying through the nights. The physical attacks started—shaking, trembling to the core. When it happened at work, I knew I wasn’t okay.
The doctor heard my story. She gave me compassion, clarity, and a hard truth: “It’s time to take a knee.”
So I am.
I Thought It Was a “Crazy House”
I’m packing my life into a bag to go live in what I once jokingly called a “crazy house.” But after visiting, it’s not that at all. They rolled out the red carpet. They made me feel sane.
It’s a small, privately owned facility run by two caring individuals. The only veteran on their staff held the same military job I do. Coincidence? I don’t think so. The housing community is peaceful, with a grounded environment. I’ll have the tools to re-center and rebuild.
Right now, I’m fully dependent on God.
Every step I take is another sip from this bitter cup.
I cry.
I mourn.
I rage.
I remember.
But I also run my race forward, trying to forget the past.
Thy Will Be Done
I want to talk to my father again. I miss Him.
He was the kind of man who fiercely defended my honor.
But I also know this: as a child of God, my Heavenly Father guards my name even more jealously. He promised in Joel that I will not be put to shame—and I’m holding onto that now.
And here’s the shift:
I’m not trying to escape the cup anymore. I’m drinking it.
But this time, I want God’s will to be done, not mine.
I’ve run out of excuses. I’m done getting in the way.
Now I understand what Jesus meant when He prayed:
“Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done.”
—Luke 22:42
The story continues.
Thank you for your attention to this matter. 😄
