Shaking walls and bricks

It's an ominous feeling that starts in the base of your neck. Some say that their hair stands on end. For me, it was like rubbing Bengay on that part of my head and feeling the numbness sweep through my spine towards my legs.

Sometimes that numbness is interrupted by phrases or memories that jolt me out of the supposed acceptance of "this is how life is." Like someone is karate-chopping my shoulder blades, forcing my upper body to lurch forward in some strange jerking motion. My mom spoke some words to me today that I had not heard in a long time. They almost brought me to tears. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to acknowledge that you've been through pain and that pain isn't over...and that is acceptable. Cradled in my mother's arms on the couch, as only a college student can, my trance was broken when she said something along the lines of "...really hurt you..."

That line, the full line, has been running in my head all day. Hurt does funny things. It causes us to build walls and become frightened at the sight of our own shadow. I have been creating a fortress. As I walk through the streets, everything is the same color, ever aspect is the same. The long process of deconstructing a wall is causing me discomfort. I am being jolted and prodded but I don't want to move. Moving necessitates acceptance and release. The fortified city is littered with tattered bricks. I cannot ignore them. I should pick up some of them, see what caused that aspect/brick to become a part of my wall and then give it up so that God can use it otherwise. Even as I feel like the bricks are falling on my head, I guess I should continue in the painstaking work of cleaning the streets, giving the debris to the One who actually knows what to do with pain.

I know that beauty comes from pain and suffering. This is a promise I can hold onto when I cannot see the point in life events. That sounds really dramatic and I'm not saying that my life is horrible. I am exploring the idea that the burdens I bear at this moment in time seem to have more purpose than helping me realize my fallibility. It is through this weakness that Christ is proven mighty and powerful. This paradox always shakes my core, which isn't hard to do. I hold onto the Anchor that will never be moved and I trust in the Keeper and Provider.