“I learned about waves when I was little, swimming in
Lake Michigan in navy blue water under a clear sky, and the
most important thing I learned was this: if you try to stand
and face the wave, it will smash you to bits, but if you trust
the water and let it carry you, there’s nothing sweeter. And
a couple
decades later, that’s what I’m learning to be true
about life, too. If you dig in and fight the change you’re
facing, it will indeed smash you to bits. It will hold you under,
drag you across the rough sand, scare and confuse you.”
~Shauna Niequist
This quote by the incomparable Shauna Niequist could not more adequately describe my life right now. Things are changing…always changing. Over the last 2 years, life has taken some drastic turns. My husband and I now own a house, all 3 of my girls are in school and finding more of themselves every day. My job has changed which required some decisions on my part, decisions I never wanted to have to make. My marriage has had waves and waves of ups and downs and those waves have been coming so fast and frequently that I am having a hard time finding my footing. There has been a monumental amount of family changes (and some things that refuse change) in both of our families and I feel like I’m stuck in this whirlwind, on some plateau, ready to sweep me away to change, but for now only making me dangle over its precipice. Each morning I get out of bed and go through the motions of my life, teeth clenched, bracing for impact. I’m in this place, where my nightmares take hold and I can see all the things I love, but can’t touch, can never touch. I don’t know how to deal with that. I want so many things in my life and I do not know how to achieve those things. I want to be comfortable in my skin. I want to laugh and share the whole world with my husband and my girls. I want that moment…you know the one. That moment when a cool breeze hits you in face, bringing with it the sweet smell of remembering, and that breeze comes at just that time when you need it and that breeze begins to feel that much cooler because of the tears streaming down your face. You breathe it in and feel an overwhelming calm and peace and maybe even begin to sob because it’s so bittersweet. But you know, in that moment, that you can ride those waves and take on that change and you only hope and pray that the people you love will ride them with you.
I am ashamed to say that I staunchly and violently tried to halt one of those waves. The shame I feel is huge, though the despair that got so deep to cause me to behave in such a manner is still lingering. No one probably realizes just how heavy my guilt is, or how desperate I was. Yes, I know I am whining and taking on a whole new level of selfishness. I should be happy. I have a big, beautiful house, a husband, 3 gorgeous little girls and decent job. I should feel blessed, but here, now, in this season of life, I don’t. I feel despair and loss. I dread the possibilities. I’m clinging tightly to the silver chord that used to bind me and my family, that used to surge so many emotions and love through it, even though it has long since lost its light and starting to dry up. I feel the loss of my relationship, to the one that remembered a horse with flames in its eyes and used to invoke so many butterflies I thought they would come bursting from my chest. I can feel my strength faltering when we come upon the holiday season, as we are coming up on it now, and I’m brutally reminded of the unfairness of the season to my husband and my girls, and I’m helpless to fix it. That thought alone causes so much anger and strife and I feel trapped under the weight of it all.
