Life comes in waves. Sometimes they are beautiful and buoyant. Other times, however, they are overwhelming and terrifying. For a long time, I've loved this wood block engraving. It's called "The Great Wave" by a Japanese artist Hokusai. It's always moved me greatly. Perhaps that's because from a very young age, I've known the good and bad waves of life intimately.
Several years ago, I went to Florida and relaxed in Indiatlantic for four days. One day, we were coming in from swimming off shore a bit and I got overtaken by a rather strong wave on the incoming tide. It was one of the most frightening experiences of my life. Just a few moments before, we'd been floating along and enjoying the cresting waves in fun and enjoyment. Then as I walked out of the ocean, I was toppled by a force too strong to fight. I was taken over, tumbled under the wave, rolled, crashed, smacked by the shore beneath my feet and all completely outside of my control. I had no idea which way was up, down or sideways. I didn't know if I had just taken my last breath or if I was going to see the sunlight again.
Life isn't very unlike that. Just as unexpectedly, recently I was smacked in the back by one of those metaphorical waves that did just that. I'm still breathing though.
In the midst of it, though, it's good to have people who care. Friends who know the truth of the brokenness of my heart in spite of the fact that I went about a month pretending it didn't bother me too much. The ones who get to hold my hand and watch me grieve the loss of a friend, more than friend. And my heart hurts. Still the weight of the hurt sometimes makes me feel like curling into a ball and weeping. It feels pathetic of me to be so bowled over by this. How did I let myself trust so fully to have it all tossed aside as if it was last week's toy? I don't know.
What I know is that Spring time seems to be the season most prone to personal disasters like this for me. It's been several years in a row now, it feels like. So I vote for maybe skipping spring altogether. No? Yeah, I'm guessing that wouldn't work so well with life either. Each spring that passes that brings hope of bright sunshine, I get so excited. I recall actually sending a text to my friend just a week or so before things crashed down and said "I'm finally beginning to think this Spring won't be doomed like the others! I'm just eating up this season this year!" 8 days later....came the crushing blows in continual succession until I was so numbed and hallowed out that i didn't feel anything anymore.
My heart seems to be waking up. Unfortunately, it's a lot like waking up a numb body part after surgery. The pain is....excruciating. It won't last. It can't last. I have to hope that it won't last. I have to hope that there's better days coming. I have to hope that this isn't the only love I'll ever know. I have to hope. If I don't, I'll curl up in a ball and give up on everything. The problem with being someone who loves so completely is that it rips a piece of your soul and kills it dead on the spot when the other person doesn't honor that. I'm still breathing though. And I've got a death grip on a GREATER Hope than my finite heartache.
Sad, yes. Hurting, obviously. Feeling like trusting again? No. Not even in the slightest bit. But, I'm breathing
And for some reason, this song by Mumford and Sons is sitting deep on my heart today. I think it's the final lines, "I'll be home in a little while, Lover, I'll be home..." because somewhere deep in my heart, I hope that's true. That my sore, weary and broken heart will find that home of companionship it so would love to find. Until then....I'm going to hide out in the Shelter of my Most High God with my sore heart and let Him have it.