Image by R.J. Hembree
used with permission
Psalm 27:7,9-10 (NIV)
Hear my voice when I call, O LORD; be merciful to me and answer me. ... Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, O God my Savior. Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.
The Bridge to Healing
I look toward the end of the bridge and am shaken. I fear heights and have been over bridges like this in the past only to be shaken by a mean brother who loved seeing fear take hold of me and watching me cower on my knees, afraid to venture to the other side. When faced with a challenge, as a child, I often cowered, trying to wear a brave face. When bullies attacked or when shame surrounded me like a little girl standing in the center of a cornfield, I would panic, shake, then drop to my knees, or run for my life.
I learned the hard way that you can't run forever and you also can't run over the bridge, unless you're a fearless soul. I'm not fearless, I'm human. I see this long bridge as a path to healing, fear on either side, but the beauty that lay up ahead when healing is complete. My journey with this disease began in confidence, fear was far from me as I started the trek across the sturdy wooden bridge. Then it hit me almost a year into my confident walk, I looked down instead of ahead, midway across the bridge.
I looked forward, I looked behind me, I was shaken and stirred as if someone was with me on the bridge trying to throw me from the path that I was on. My hair swirled around me as I kept looking back and forth, confidence stored in the clouds, fear in the rushing waters below. I was frozen. Mid-December I became less and less confident, my pain rose, my ability to focus waned. Surrounded by positive and negative vibrations, all meshed together and I was cowering in the center of the bridge, halfway to my destination. How could this happen, how could I lose the very confidence I started over the bridge with, what happened?
I know what happened; every pain, every lump and bump were echoing sounds from below in the rushing river. I looked over the edge and it crumbled me as it had in the past. I was staring death straight in the face, in my mind. I couldn't let go, no one was there to save me. No one was there to rebuild my confidence. Prayers continued for me but I felt that they were too far away for me in the trembling of my knees.
Then I remembered the clouds; the clouds that lined the end of the bridge, that feathered over the sky as protection from the baking sun. What I was seeking was not below in rushing waters, in echoing fears, in rocky mountains, what I was after was the healing that only my God above could restore. A month, two months passed and I was growing weary just crumbled in the middle of the bridge, I needed to rise and peer at the sky and remember the reason all of this took place to begin with.
Someone walked onto the bridge in a tip-toe fashion and handed me a cane then went on to the other side where they stood motioning me forward. Me, I was slowly rebuilding confidence, my pain was easing, my knees more steady as I stood and began to take a step toward the end of the bridge. I was powering onto the finish line where friends were now cheering me on. The fog had lifted and I could see their faces at the end of the bridge. Looking around was no longer scary, it was becoming a part of the journey, it was fine tuning my eye to the promise of healing.
The cane slowly slipped from my hands as I was no longer in need of the crutch. The worn wood no longer held slivers of fear between them, they held solidarity in my foothold. The end looked like the promise I was guaranteed by the Lord Himself. The sky held beauty and with each step, I went forward to the healing that all were anticipating.
Moral of the story: Don't let fear stop you from moving ahead in your journey. Don't let the vibration pull of positivity and negativity own you and blanket you in fear. Grab hold of the reins of confidence and drown out the rushing waters below; listen to the sounds hidden in the clouds that only a fined tuned eye can see and ears can hear.
Ez. 12:2 “Son of man, thou dwellest in the midst of a rebellious house, which have eyes to see, and see not; they have ears to hear, and hear not: for they are a rebellious house.”
3 comments:
Keep moving ahead! :D
*hugs!* <3
Reminds me of when Peter climbed out of the boat to meet Jesus walking on the water. Then he took his eyes off the Lord and started gaping at the waves. The fear started pulling him down.... Great post Joni. Good to have you back.
Thank you Benning. Thank you, Donna!
It is quite amazing what a picture can conjure in one's mind. I had not written until today when this image reminded me of back home and the bridge I so terrifyingly crossed when younger.
I felt a healing in this post and only hope there is more to come.
Thank you both for your continued support!
*HUGS* <3 <3
Post a Comment