Sit in your apartment in your underwear eating cheerios. Watch this video of automobiles smashing into each other for much too long. Remember that moment, a moment in the dorm bathroom that smelled like the pink cleaner they kept under the sink and the cold tiles under your feet. You're brushing your teeth and staring at yourself in the mirror with all those angry questions in your head and God so very quiet. Imagine that this was the moment the world you built out of words and faith began to crumble. You probably aren't getting enough sleep.
Burn the past like an old notebook. No, don't do that. If you're not the story you tell yourself then who are you? When you sing on Sunday, sing this: "I must tell Jesus all of my sorrow, I cannot bear these burdens alone," and feel that bit of relief inside, like something opens up, just a little. "We went through fire and through water," the psalmist says, "yet you have brought us out to a spacious place."