Christian Poems

Worth Living

Last night, I felt a way ive never felt before. I don't know what was going on. It felt the closest to a panic attack. Maybe an insanely strong spiritual warfare attack.

I was in a bad place and mentally not well. I started listening to sad music to try and make me cry. I needed to. And needed help. So I did. I sobbed. It was terrible. I was low.

I then got attacked more. I started to think negatively. Wondering why I'm alive. But a part of me deep down didn't like me saying that. But I felt too broken. And I told God that. I felt so alone. Too proud, yet afraid to ask for help. I felt afraid being alone in my thoughts at night.

I felt panic and this overwhelming feeling overcome me. I threw off my cover, moved to the back of my bed against the wall, grasping my bed in anxiety. I also put my hands on my head, freaking out.

I felt incredibly far from God. Such hopelessness. That He left me. I cried out to Him asking where He was. Why He left. I needed Him so badly.

I've been frustrated recently. With people. With myself. I think me getting sick made it worse. Throwing all progress out the window. God had to save me from myself. And I'm glad He did. He obviously thinks my life is worth me living. But sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I know I'm broken. I feel too broken to even be living this life. Why should I? I'm just sinning against God and am not strong enough to do anything.

But I know He can make me be strong. I know. But I struggle with indulging in my sadness rather than forcing myself to be happy.

Even now, I'm frustrated. Hearing all this talk from people about others frustrates me. Gossip. Talking down about someone. Especially someone I care about. I hate that I overheard. I tried paying attention to writing this poem. I even went to the bathroom. But when I came out, it still went on.

I'm frustrated with my life. With me. I hate who I am and how I am. I wish I was different. Wish I was normal. Wish I could run away and forsake everyone and everything right now. I don't feel worthy of this life. I'm not suicidal and would never actually do it.

But I can't help but think about life just ceasing for me. If I disappeared, what would it really matter? But then God reminds me I'm an encourager. People come to me with their problems because I'm trustworthy and kind.

God, why am I here? I don't deserve to live. I do nothing and am barely even worthy to hold the title of a Christian. And true, that's most likely my frustration and pain talking. And the devil working in me, but it's what I need to get off my chest. I haven't told anyone else. Nor do I feel like I really can. And maybe that's why it's harder.

I know despite my feelings, You have a purpose for me. That even when I don't feel it, I have a life worth living.