It felt almost as if I was suffocating. The grief, the loss I'd endured
what exactly was I upset about?
Why did I feel alone when there were so many to turn to? Why did I feel like I'd lost someone close, when I can barely name five people I'd ever known who'd passed? Why did I feel empty, when I had wealth, friendship, and all the necessities and luxuries I could imagine? Why did I feel the need to be angry and rude, when all anyone had done was lent me kindness? Why was I hurting, without a cause?
Not having a reason to be miserable frustrated me even more. I sobbed, and I was without comfort. Sitting there. That is what I did every night. However, this time it was different. It was the middle of the day, no one had called. My family was missing, but it felt good. It felt good to vent. It felt good to ease the beast that clawed the inside of my chest, if only a little. I threw my hands in the air, paced back and forth, back and forth. I lay on the cold floor, like a fevered person would. I'd do anything to gut myself of the pain.
The agony had grown over the years. I told myself I could be indifferent to everything, and that I'd be respected that way. I fooled myself into thinking I could do what I wanted, while not knowing what I wanted, what I still want, but can't find. But finally, after living a lifetime of lies and idiocy, I couldn't contain it a second more. What was this?!
Though it took all of my breath, I screamed it, over and over. Why? Why? Why?
I'd hit rock bottom, and not even a shovel could get me further emotionally, or at least that was what it felt like. It was too much for any person to take, this hollowness was. I didn't see a future, and I was blind to happiness.
As I cried and rocked, something brushed my cheek. It had no temperature, yet it was smooth like silk, and somehow it warmed my cold-hearted state. My tears were being soaked up by the fabric, and I briefly wondered whether I'd lain down on my sheets in my tantrum. Then I realized I didn't care, that it felt better than anything I'd experienced before. I leaned into it and felt something firm wrap around me. It rocked with me, my heart-wrenching sobs torn from my soul slowly calming to hiccups. Time was non-existent.
"Shhhh," I felt more than heard.
"I ca-a-an't," I wept to the voice, whether it was imaginary or not, not sure if I was talking about crying or life in general. I buried my face more forcefully into the figure that I didn't bother opening my eyes to see. My shoulders began to shake and heave again as a new fit of despair bubbled up and washed over me. Or was it despair? It didn't feel rotten as it had before. I couldn't put a name on it. Was that because I was hardly thinking at all through the pain? My hands clenched on the cloth, perhaps this was the only thing that had seen me weep like this. I had never trusted anyone with my feelings.
Suddenly, the words burst straight from my heart to my mouth, "I'm sorry." Where had the words come from? What was I sorry for?
Another round of sobs came violently, hot liquids tracking my face, my breath burning, body shuddering painfully; it left me gasping for air. A hand was stroking my hair, and the cries of anguish reduced to just rocking and shaking again. And then just rocking with one side of my head pressed to the person, mouth unconsciously gaping open. My chest no longer felt so tight. In fact, I almost felt empty, without a thought until:
"I've always been here."
I couldn't bring myself to give thanks.
"I love you."
And unexpectedly, I was crying again, but now they were tears of joy. My grin was so wide it hurt, and I wrapped my arms as tightly as I could around the man. Then there was laughter from my own body, my whole being crying out, because even though I still hadn't opened my eyes to look this person in the face, he had made it all go away. The emptiness and the anger; the depression and the pain. There was only relief and elation in these arms. I had a purpose, someone loved me! And I knew that to do all of this, save me from my own uselessness, that he must also have a plan as to what I could do to stay this way.
My heart was close to bursting again, but in a new way. A way that would make my chest explode and bring jubilance to everyone I came into contact with. The beast inside was now a bunny, tickling me and bouncing around with the same delight that was giving me strength even now.
Imagine you're four again, and you are separated from your mother at the supermarket. Too shy to approach anyone for help, but so hopelessly lost that you think you'll never see your loved one again. Then you hear your name called, and when you turn, there she is, concern and happiness adorning her familiar face. Now, multiply that relief by one hundred and you may come close to what I felt at that moment.
Finally, I looked into that face with those caring, compassionate eyes. The beauty of this person was so incredible, so indescribable that
"Who are you?" Came my choked whisper.
A Fatherly smile pasted across those handsome features like easy-spread butter over warm toast, the corners of His eyes crinkling slyly, "I think you know."
"Lamentations 3:22-23--It is of the LORD's mercy that we are not consumed, because His compassions do not fail. They are new every morning: great is His faithfulness."
"Psalms 22:24--For He has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and He has not hidden His face from him, but has heard, when he cried to Him."
"Psalms 71:20-21--You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth You will bring me up again. You will increase my greatness and comfort me again."