Promises and Gravity

Dear Friends,

Once upon a time, long ago,
There lived a little girl
Whom people thought was ‘slow.’

When spoken to, she looked away,
Buried her face in mother’s skirt,
No knowing what to say.
She felt so sad, sometimes even mad,
tho didn’t know why.

She didn’t understand she was not slow, stupid or rude. No one could explain why she sensed so much that couldn’t be put into words. So confusion, isolation, and not being understood . . . by others and even herself . . . entered her tender soul.

One day a friend entered her life, a life-friend; one who promised to never leave her or abandon her for any reason. This friend explained her to herself. He said she was one little reflection, one small part of a bigger, greater Person than anyone could imagine . . . One who loved her more than he loved himself. He promised her that if she were brave and embraced their friendship, she would become herself and more than she could ever become on her own, in her own strength and by herself.

This girl, this precious little girl, saw for the first time a light . . . and hope. She began to understand that she was not alone, that she could be at peace with herself and at peace with those around her. But, her friend said sadly there was more she needed to understand, if their friendship was going to last as he desired. He wanted to share truth as well as extraordinary love; he loved too much to lie to her. Cautiously, feeling sadness creep around the edges of her heart, she asked what he meant. He explained, and asked her to please remember it as she lived her life.

Life, he assured, was going to have great joy mixed with rough rocks along its path. He cautioned that her great hope and joy, at times, may fade; that she might stumble and fall; she might get hurt. Nevertheless, he promised to walk every step with her—to weep with her, celebrate when she was happy, hurt when she hurt. Through it all, he admonished her to remember he would never, ever, leave her alone. He would always hold her close to his heart and give her the strength she needed to take whatever next step was in front of her—even when she did not know what that next step might be.

As years moved forward, this little girl now a woman learned his promises were true. He never did leave her alone. There were times when she avoided his friendship; in great pain she forgot his presence and lost his comfort in her agony. Others she knew, who also shared this friendship with him, had similar pain-filled life experiences; but remarkably did not abandon their friendship with him. Yet, true to his word, when this woman turned back and asked to renew her friendship with him, she found he had been with her all along in that empty space . . . loving her and waiting for her to turn her face back to his.

As she shared all this with me, I asked this woman, “Given your experience, what advice do you have for us in today’s painful, unpredictable world?”

“My first thought,” she answered, “is no matter how strong you are, if you don’t make choices, gravity will cause you to fall off the fence in one direction or another. Come back tomorrow and I will share more then.”

So, my friends, more another day.
Keep looking up,

© November 19, 2015