I wrote this 2 years ago. It was interesting for me to read it again. I’m thankful I’ve grown since & am at a much better place in contentment but the loneliness still hits sometimes. I’m only human. ❤ Happy Sunday y’all.
I normally write from whatever place I find myself in or whatever I’m mulling over & over in my twisty mind currently. This is a little slice from a wonderful book I just finished & these lines leapt off the page at me. I don’t know of a more accurate way to explain how some memories feel –
“Every time it happened, it was like coming upon an empty room I didn’t know was there, and stepping in, I would be pierced by it, by the ghost of the one who’d once filled it up. I didn’t stumble into this place much anymore, but when I did, it hollowed out little pieces of me.” – Sarah Grimke, The Invention of Wings
I so relate to these words. The ghost of memory. I felt it just last night.
I had actually exercised some with a girlfriend & then came home & took a hot shower. What a delicious feeling that was after the sweat & toil of pushing myself. Or punishing depending on how you look at it. (My mostly sedentary readers will understand.) 🙂 Anyway afterwards, as I plopped down on the sofa all fresh & clean it just hit me out of the blue. And monopolized my mind, stealing my happy place momentarily. The memory of someone I shared those same clean, happy times with for many years.
It was almost as if he came in & sat down right next to me. Almost like he could have materialized at any moment. It was so surreal. And bittersweet.
It swept me away into a vacuum where I re-played the dance of days that turned into a part of a lifetime. The stab of the demise was nowhere in sight, only the good parts. The parts we cling to so desperately. You know, just in case nothing else ever pans out for us after the loss of it. Which is a place I admit I pander to more often that I care to admit.
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get that back. Those feelings. The ease of incredible comfort & being able to turn completely inside out in front of someone. To not shrink back when I am screaming inside to expose all of me. The beautiful, the ugly, the dark & the light.
I do know we are supposed to let Jesus be our all in all when we are lacking in any area. And He is certainly able. I get it – I really do. I would be totally lost without that gift. But sometimes, just sometimes, I want God with skin on.
In all honesty, the loneliness can wrap itself around me like a heavy, black & woolen blanket & threaten to make me disappear on occasion. That’s how it feels anyway. And sometimes I lean into it & tip over, getting lost in the 100-acre wood of what was & misplace all direction for what is to come. Those good plans for my future that I am promised. Sometimes I do stupid things to try to forget. And always to no avail. To say all that is an exercise in futility is a serious understatement.
But thankfully with grace as my ringside coach – before I ever get to where I might wander so far that I can’t turn back, I cry out to God –
Lord please come & save me. Please come & quell this spiral into nothing. Please pull me back from the rip-tide of memory that keeps pulling me under. Hold me now – hold me warm & strong & safe. I need You. I need your salve for this broken heart that just won’t seem to heal. And please protect me from collapsing into the arms of someone, or anything – that will only leave me empty. Again.
In Jesus’ Mighty Name,
Much Love & crying out because we must,