My tummy twists and knots. My heart wrenches. My soul searches my living room for relief. I see my favorite blanket, so soft and soothing. I see my tablet, ready with a diversion in games. I see my Bible, Truth, and Jesus inside. A lesson pops into my head, another essay to write and share with others. The moral is right there: I could self-soothe, divert my attention, or go to the Source of healing. But teaching lessons is just another diversion in disguise, an opportunity to escape the heartbreak. I decided to stay grounded and feel the feelings. I hurt.

I don’t pick up my Bible. I tried reading it last night but ended up in hypothetical theological arguments. I’m so tired. I don’t want to argue anymore. I pick up my blanket and wrap it around me, and it soothes me. I feel my muscles unclench a little. I play games on my tablet, and my thoughts untangle and relax. Calmer now, I pick up my Bible and read. “But I trust in your unfailing love,” it says. I am almost ready to receive the message. I stay still.

I decide to trust. I feel the freedom from self-condemnation. It’s OK not to follow the direct path to God. He’s with me. It’s OK to self-soothe. He’s with me in the softness and the comfort. It’s OK to recreate and divert attention from pain. He’s with me on the journey. It’s OK to return again and again and again and again to Love. He’s with me.

It’s OK.