GETTING BACK UP


when one experiences hard things, the kind of hard that seems to beat you to a pulp and knock you onto your back, the only thing you can do for a while is lay there.

you feel weak.
you feel despondent.
you feel like the pain will never go away.

and you know what? it's okay to lay there for a while.

and while you're lying there all sorts of things cross your mind.

maybe i will just stay down here- it would be so much easier
maybe i will find something easy to run to and maybe just maybe the pain will go away
maybe i will close my eyes and all of this will have just been a horrible nightmare

and after you've thought all these thinks, the thinks decide they need to come out and you begin

you talk to people... friends, family, therapist, bishop, co-workers
you talk to the wall
you talk when you're in your car all by yourself
you say horrible things, sad things, hurtful things, angry things
you say things about the past, the present... the future that seems so empty

then one day, as you're lying there, flat on your back, feeling the hot tears trickle down your face for the 100th time, you finally look up at the ceiling and you cry out to the God you believe in and you say the last words you can possibly think of to say.

Please Help Me

they seem to fall out of your mouth in a whisper. light on your lips-- because you are too weak to say it any louder or with any more conviction.

and then you wait, quietly... delicately... hopefully

then, just when you thought it would never come-- it comes -- it starts in your head. it's quiet at first; you almost can't hear it or understand. you wonder if you're just making it up. but ever so softly you do.

i love you my daughter
you are not alone
you are worth more than all the gold in the world to me

it takes your breath away at first. you almost don't dare to believe it... but you so badly want to believe it. so you let it sit with you for a while. then without warning, you get more

you do have the strength to do this, you know
you are made of the finest i could give
you will be blessed with more than you can imagine

you sit up. did you hear that right? you start to think about it again. you refuse to let yourself really truly grasp anything just yet. you're still too stunned. you speak back.

what does that mean?
what could you possibly give me that would take ALL this pain away?
what could you do to make me feel like i am normal again?

then you look around and notice that not only are you not crying anymore, but you've been able to sit up without much effort on your part. you are stunned for a minute. you are tempted to lie back down. it felt so much better letting your head hang low. but then it comes again.

i have work for you my gifted child
i have given you unique things that will make a difference
i have all the intention of using those strengths to make your life better

but... but... what about all the things you said i could have? huh? what about those?

you stand up out of anger and with bitter tears and all the disappointment and the fear and the hurt you scream up at him...

WHY?

why can't i have what i want?
why did you do this to me?
why am i still here, after all i've tried to become?

but that understanding voice comes back to you. he knows. he understands. he hurts just as much as you do. pain is the last thing he wants for you... but he also knows that through this pain comes strength... and he needs you to be strong.

you can't see everything i see
you can't even imagine what i have in store
you can do this, i promise
and look... you are standing... and you didn't think you could even do that.

this time you are shocked. you? you have the strength to stand on your own again? you look around, you feel a bit dizzy, you feel like maybe you'll fall again and be right back where you started. you don't trust this position just yet. you look back up. you stand there for the longest time. waiting... out of fear... not wanting to move. gently he prompts.

trust me and follow me
trust me and i will make weak things become strong
trust me and i will bless each step you take
come on now... take that fist step

you start to move your foot and realize that the pain is still very acute. it's not possible. you can't do this. it hurts. you're still sad. you're still weak.

but you are up. you got up, and you didn't even think you could do that. and as you take each step, your courage and faith and strength will grow. and each step will become easier. the wounds will heal and your heart will begin to open.

and years from now you will be so far away from where you landed that you won't be able to see it anymore. and you'll look at those scars and raise them to God and give thanks.