An Elephant Named Eternity

And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand (Mark 3:25)

When I get that unsettled feeling that something is not quite right, which is frequent these days, I have to stop and take notice of what is disquieting. As a playful person with an intense nature, I take life seriously. What ought to be celebrated and joyful, has been sullied and smothered in smut.

As I type, once again, God reminds me with the sun's rays, that in order for the light to get in, I have to open the blinds. Even as I consider this opening up to brightness, I realize that when the shades are drawn, the light still finds its way under, over, and around the window covering. Thankfully, when I feel gloomy and share my darkened thoughts with God, He always finds a way to illume my mind: bathing in light is a wonderful purifier. 

I feel like a living breathing dichotomy, an oxymoron of sorts. I love humanity, and am enraged by "it" at the very same time. The humans I loved intensely and with unfailing loyalty, have dispersed. They have been evacuated from my life, as though a bomb went off and they high tailed it, taking cover far far away from me. Was I the bomb, the blast that threatened their existence? Was I the danger they had to escape, in order to secure a future? Perhaps I am shrapnel they barely evaded. 

Without them, I feel lost and lonely. They were my others and in my memory, they still are. I can pretend on the best of days that I don't love them anymore, but that is a lie I have told myself so that I don't have to grieve, again. Again the grieving ... I make Kleenex rich with my tears. We cannot replace deep lost love, at least, I sure hope not. 

My love story didn't match up with theirs, I suppose. I kind of thought that eternity was built in non-negotiably. I thought I'm gonna love you forever and ever, forever and ever amen, was part of the partnership, the agreement we made. We spoke these words, with tear filled eyes ... or is that a figment of my imagination? I see you, you see me, and the love is real, was real, is still, real?

Today I acknowledge I still love them, my others. I have thrown emotional boulders as big as I could lift at them, for leaving me, for believing that I could ever, ever hurt them, when what I wanted to do was pull them close and say "You, and me, for eternity, okay?"

The Bible talks about hail stones the weight of which could crush a man, at one hundred pounds each. The weight of sorrow can also crush a man, a woman, a child. Loss has that heavy feeling that suffocates. And the sun outside my window continues to shine: dichotomy ... the contrasts are devastatingly beautiful. 

I have been ugly lately, wanting to tear down the vicious with my own brand of vicious. What I hate most is cruelty, and in my desire to crush it, I bandy it about too, wanting to highlight and dethrone the wicked ones. Truth be told, they didn't take my others away: my others walked or ran away of their own accord. We were meant to be for a time, and no more. 

Today I grieve. I will go for a long walk and soak up the sun. I will celebrate God's blessings, and thank Him for the lovies in my life that remain. The sadness and sorrow will pass, and more than likely return. In the mean time, I will try my best to be love.