I looked at my phone for what felt like hours waiting for it to buzz or ring or light up.
Nothing.
My own wrestling with patience prevented anyone from contacting me first, or so it seemed. That’s because I would stop at almost anything to communicate with someone at randomized, seemingly perfect for me, moments.
“Think about what you need to do for yourself in those moments,” someone said to me recently. I cannot remember the exact wording now, but they continued and said, “Instead of thinking about what hurts or why its hurting, try to figure out what needs to be healed.”
Have you ever been hurt and knew exactly what you needed to do to help yourself heal? Could you figure out the first step?
“That’s a good idea,” I said back. In fact, it seems quite simple now that I think about it. After all, when I was younger it was pretty simple to figure out the first step towards healing.
When you fall down, you get back up again.
When I was eight, I got on my bicycle and started riding it down the steep back hill of our development. It’s not for certain, but I believe I might have been carrying other things with me, weighing down bicycle with a faster speed to the bottom of that hill. Half way down, the front wheel skirted right, the back went left, and I landed underneath it and the bicycle dragged me about ten more feet. I don’t remember if I cried, but I probably did. I have a scar on the inside of my elbow that reminds me just how deep the road carved into me as the bicycle dragged me down the hill. In that moment, I didn’t need to figure out why it hurt or what had happened. It was quite obvious! So, I, in a sobbing and tearful, bloody mess begrudgingly walked my bicycle back up the hill and home.
Not all hurts are that easy to figure out, and for most people the hurts become a little more complicated when you get older. Not the hurts, but the cause, and the why sometimes is impossible to figure out. Then, sometimes, we, I know I do, get stuck in wondering why something happened that we cannot see the first step.
One thing is for sure, I’m not asking Why? anymore.
As a child: “Why did Sigmund (the cat) die?”
Parent: “She wasn’t feeling well and she’s in a better place.”
As a teenager: “Why couldn’t I go to the college I wanted to go to?”
Parent: “Because it wasn’t what you thought it was going to be.”
As an adult: “Why did he leave me?”
Parent: “It’s for the best.”
Parent: “It’s for the best.”
It’s interesting, I think, that the answers are easy when we’re younger and they are more vague as we get older. More deeply, because when we ask such a deep question like, “Why did he leave me?” or “Why did she have to get cancer?” we most likely wouldn’t be happy with the answer. It would not bring us the joy that we so long hoped to feel again.
When I hurt, sometimes I hit the gym and I pound my feet on the rotating belt as if it were pavement. It’s as if I’m chasing after some sort of something on the horizon and I never get there. Other times, I hang out with friends and occasionally enjoy more than what I need to enjoy when it comes to wine. Or, I write down stories that I hope would make sense of the pain.
Since my last post, I decided to stop asking why and just go to the source that my Grandma taught me as a young girl: my Faith. Instead of asking myself again, why did my life change in the way it did, I asked who will still love me tomorrow?
If you’re not a Christian, or have never been to Church, it may not make sense to you. But, for me, the message that I knew, and had heard, and trusted for years was much more loud than it ever has been before. In Romans 8, the Bible says, If our God is for us, then who can be against us?
That’s real soul food, and real comfort, for me, on this journey... to something fabulous.
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