One early morning not many years ago, I stepped over the guard rails on the sixth floor of a hotel in San Diego. The sky dark gray with only a whisper of light from the barely-rising sun, the city still sleeping while I was alone on the pool deck. I had an unobstructed view of the Coronado bridge, symbolic of fear interlaced with pain. Clinging to the rail behind me, I stared hard into the open sky ahead of me and the bow of a bridge that taunted my frail heart. I looked down at the empty sidewalk that lined the fenced-in railroad. It seemed quiet, my ears failed to reach beyond the clamor in my mind. I breathed deep, loosed my grip of the rail and stood there with arms wide open. Nothing in front of me and hardly enough of a platform below me to stand on. Stinging tears ran town my face, a razor in my heart. Facing my own mortality just to feel again. Because here’s the thing. . . You can’t numb the bad without numbing the good. I breathed in deep again. . . The cold air sharp in my lungs. In, out. In, out. Just breathe. The sun transformed the sky into a explosion of orange and pink as it inched above the horizon, and hope pulled me back over the metal barrier.
And recently I have been feeling a bit undone and unraveled and a bit like falling apart. Sometimes the weight of loss, rejection and failure and uncertainty creeps in. . . and I allow it to wash over me. To remember, to recognize, to name, and to let it be. . . to feel is okay. . .and good. . . and Human. No selective numbing. For a moment I will just. Let. It. Be. And I will stay on this side of the ledge because though the sting is still there, I have overcome. And in the midst of each moment I will hear His voice that speaks life, hope, peace. . . His glory – not mine. His will, not mine. Friends, we never walk alone.
Spent this weekend reflecting on His goodness, grace and mercy. . . The kind faithfulness that he shows in unexpected places. They joy He gives so generously. True hope that balms the heart comes from Him alone. He is good, He is good.