And in that moment I don’t feel so weak. My posture straightens and I feel peace. You lower Your hand and You pull me out. It is Spring and there is new life everywhere. You reach out Your hand and with a sweeping motion You push the dirt back in the hole. You lower Your hand with Your palm down and flip it over and raise it up. Nine billy balls and sunflowers come up out of the dirt. You look at me and You say, “I know you thought you knew what love was…but now I am going to show you. Take my hand and trust me and I will make your life beautiful. Be patient I have some cool stuff to show you.” #Psalm30
When you left, I began to sweep up the egg shells I had scattered across the floor. The eggshells that would keep me in line. The eggshells that would keep you here. I slowly began to feel the floor again. I felt the wood grains as I curled my toes embracing the wood like sand. I felt the creases and the imperfections. My feet no longer bled from the shards left by the egg shells I tried so desperately not to step on. I no longer felt the pressure; I no longer had to hold my breath. As the level of harm subsided, I began to explore this floor. I began to change my steps. I began to dance and glide and breathe and smile. I began to sing and twirl and let go of all I held in. I felt free though battered. Limitless though scarred.
The process of coping is like climbing a mountain. You throw a rope around the ledge of the next stage of the process. You have to work hard to pull yourself to that ledge. You are exhausted as you climb up on top of the ledge only to realize you must throw your rope to the next ledge and begin to pull yourself to the next stage of the process. Everyone climbs at a different pace. Some will climb the mountain quickly and some may have to camp out on the different ledges for a little while. This is where you must be gracious to yourself.
Divorce was one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. I say this only because I was humbled. I learned what grace truly meant. Having accepted this grace and these new humble lenses, I have become more approachable and I seek more to understand. I am constantly reminded that we really do not know what others are going through.