Until You’re Ready

Writing is supposed to ease the mind, settle the soul, captivate thoughts in ink.

What happens when you turn to the paper and pen as if they are your only hope of salvation and together they fail you?

They were the last hope, where even incoherent babble earns its right to be seen, to scream out to others visually.

But when something severs your spirit from your soul, how does the writing become the glue, the paste, the hammer and nails, even the staple gun?

The regular aches and pains are soothed like salve on a burn, the writing gives way to the sweet sigh of relief,

The one that unburdens the body and soul from packages carried long and short term,

Like finally being able to get oxygen into the lungs after losing your inhaler just before an asthma attack.

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So…where are the airflow and the rejuvenation? Where is that satisfying reward?

This time it’s not helping, breathing is still stunted. What.else.am.I.missing? What.else.am.I.supposed.to.do?

This pain and suffering is new, uncharted territory, like nothing I’ve experienced before.

I don’t want to be on this journey, in this boat, in the storm of my life…and theirs.

Turbulence barely touches the magnitude of complexity, trials and hardships, in fact, this here, is bigger than any word I know.

It’s like when you run out of words, out of tears, out of places to ache, and you’re left with this, this thing with no name.

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Your friends and family try to throw you safety nets, life preservers; they’d throw you a brick if they thought it would help.

But when you look in the mirror, not the one in our bathroom or bedroom…but the ultimate mirror that you can never shatter or truly avoid.

The mirror that reflects all that you are and are not, the one that speaks magically straight thru to your heart, regardless of your earplugs.

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That’s when reality hits. It’s you and God and He has raised the hedge that separates you from everyone else trying to help, trying to get in.

He has cornered you and your mirror and is looking for His reflection. He is looking for what you don’t see.

He waits.

Copyright © 2009 Natasha Guy

Copyright © 2009 Natasha Guy