The Same, but Different

I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for 40 years! - Ouiser Boudreaux (Steel Magnolias)

     The anger has finally faded.  That only took a couple days, but I'm sure it will flare up again.  Somebody told me years ago to look at my face in a mirror when I'm really angry.  I'm not sure what it was supposed to do, but usually I just flipped myself the bird and cussed myself out.  Today I took my anger to a different type of mirror.  It's not in the bathroom and it doesn't hang on the back of a door.  In fact, I didn't see my face at all.  This mirror was a special mirror, made by God.  In this mirror you see your heart, your hurt and your healing.  I sat across from her and we talked.  We have had conversations before, but never face to face.  I liked her the first moment I saw her.  This mirror is a friend.  A friend who knows your deepest pain, without you having to describe it, because she felt it too.  As I look at my new friend and we share a little of our stories, I realize, I can be okay too.  I can get through this.
     There are differences in who we are.  There are differences in our stories.  But there is a place we met in the heart, where the pain is.  We can laugh about things other people wouldn't understand.  There is something different about abuse victims.  What we feel for each other is not compassion, it's not pity or sympathy, we feel and recognize each others pain, because it is our pain.

Do you think there's someplace where we can meet that's not in silence and not in sound? James Leeds - Children of a Lesser God
    
     Have you ever noticed if two people are each carrying ten pounds of something and you both put yours in a basket and each grab a handle, the load seems lighter?  Distribution and balance help.  One person may be carrying the bulk of the weight for both of you for a few seconds when the other one stumbles.  I think the weight of pain is this way.  It will feel better when it stops hurting. It's a lot lighter when you set it down.  Ha.
     I pitch a fit, because life isn't fair and this little kid in me is tired of being disciplined into maturity.  Sometimes I think God let's it be dark so you will be sure to know it's Him, when the light shines.  He lets us sit in the valley's so we will give Him the glory when He holds our hand to the top of the mountain.  I think He leaves us in our rooms to think about what we have done or what has been done to us, so that when we come out of our room, we are ready to behave.  Okay, maybe He just does that with some of us. 
     When I was somewhere between 8 and maybe 10 our family went camping with our horse club.  My dad went into this long drawn out explanation about how much physical pain I was going to be in if I even thought about getting close to the river.  I remembered every word of it as I headed to the river with a couple of my friends.  Of course there was really no place to play except for the slippery rocks next to the water.  I remember the part dad told me about the river being over my head from one side to the other, nothing gradual about it, as I slipped and fell into the water.  I knew I was dead.  If the water didn't swallow me up, my dad was sure to finish me off.  I sank very fast.  Immediately I was up to my chest and knew it was over.  Then out of no where, my friend reached down and pulled me out with one hand and set me beside her.  She was no big strong girl.  We were the same size.  We didn't play by the river anymore.  When dad found out, he gave me that silent stare like God does sometimes.  You are supposed to think when that is happening.  You're suppose to get the lesson, before you speak.  If it's your earthly father, there is a time limit.  I had nothing.  My thinker quit on me.  I just stared back at him and waited.  Then in a very sober voice he said, "You better be thankful you had a friend who could pull you out."  I nodded my head so fast and furious, it hurt, but I wanted to agree with anything that came out of his mouth.  I don't think he meant for me to see it, but like many times, I saw the smirk as he turned to walk away.
     So again today, I had a friend pull me out of my river of anger.  I learned.  When I finally talked to God after a couple days of pouting, I felt the smirk, but with Him, I dare smirk back.

   

“It's about a girl who is on the cusp of becoming someone.. A girl who may not know what she wants right now, and she may not know who she is right now, but who deserves the chance to find out.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper