sharing different heartbeats in one night

picture found here.

I've been silent for almost two months. The words that once flooded my mind disappeared. The hope I felt for something new turned into fear, and rather than tip-toeing through the fear, I sat and wrapped my arms around myself.

I'm still sitting with my arms wrapped around my legs. My face rests on my knees, and I wait.

I want to say I am waiting with hope and joy and the promise of better things to come, but I'm not. I'm waiting, air burning in my lungs, and wondering what will come next. I'm terrified of what the future hold because I'm not sure any of it will be better than the past. I tell myself not to worry and remind myself that God has a plan (always) and that His hand is on me.

But to be honest, I don't currently know if it's true. I don't know if there is a plan. I don't feel His hand on me. I feel alone, caught in a tidal wave of emotions. I fight against the water, reaching for the sky, but the water fills my lungs and the waves throw me against the rocky bottom.

The subject isn't pretty. And the aftermath is even less pretty. Tonight it ended with me, suffering from a sinus infection, crying on the phone to my mother and then crying on the shoulder of my husband - soaking his shirt with my tears and snot.

After the tears and words, he took my hand, and we prayed. At the end, we were silent. I wanted a booming voice to come out of the sky and give us clear direction. I wanted to be reminded that there is something else out there. Instead, there was silence. A sense of peace settled, and my husband said he felt "okay" and thought that, for now, it was fine to feel "okay."

I'm afraid of being "okay." I'm afraid of calming down and being at peace. I'm afraid because I don't think it will last.

Life is difficult. Everyone knows this. We all struggle. We all fight our own tidal waves. We are all battered and bruised and gasping for air. Some of us have an easier time of breaking through the waves and others wonder how they have survived for so long without drowning.

I have no words of wisdom for myself, or anyone else, who might feel like they are drowning. I've read books and felt that I was close to the surface, but I've been wrong each time. My tidal wave is different than another's. There are no comforting words to be found. I simply have to continue to fight to break the surface - even though I am bloody and bruised and have lungs full of water.

(title from "heartbeats" by jose gonzalez)