Seeing is believing
People ask me all the time how I cope with the weight of carrying other’s grief. I admit that at times, it is definitely harder than others, but that grief is something I can handle because I know that eventually there will be hope and healing as part of the journey. But, with full transparency, there are times in which I become weighted down with my own grief, and that can be the heaviest of all and a little more difficult to navigate.
Recently, I was struggling with some pretty painful things and I found myself becoming more introspective and quiet. I wasn’t my usual “happy go lucky” self and people began to notice, which is a clear sign that I wasn’t coping as well as I thought I was (hey, it happens to us all).
The good thing is that I began to have conversations with others and made more of a conscious effort to “unburden” my heart. Doing the things that I am constantly encouraging others to do felt a tad bit foreign, but as I progressed down that road, I began to notice my heart feeling lighter. The surprising thing for me is that I find it more and more difficult to tap into raw emotions and let them out through crying. I want to cry sometimes and I have no qualms about doing so, it’s just that bringing them to the surface oftentimes requires a lot of work.
It was early morning on a Saturday and I was up drinking my coffee and reading my devotional. I was reflecting on some pretty tough conversations I had been having from the day before and I was sorting through them in my mind, trying desperately to make sense of things that were important to me along with many others. Suddenly, and I am not telling a lie, the lighting changed and the room began to glow with a brightness that was unexplainable. I stopped my reading and glanced toward the bay window, the source of where the light was coming from, and there, directly in front of me was the most vibrant and full double rainbow.
Not believing my eyes (my contacts were not in yet), I rushed down the stairs and out into the cold with my camera to capture the moment. As I stood there and marveled at the brilliant scene before me, I was suddenly cognizant of tiny flakes of snow falling upon my bear arms, a direct clash of two unusual weather events and I was amazed. The moment probably lasted less than a minute, but what a glorious minute it was for me! For just those few precious seconds, the pain and anguish I had been feeling and trying to sort through, was taken away in an instant. And, for this Southern girl who was standing outside in the frigid cold, barefoot and in her pajamas, it was proof positive that if you are seeking answers, sometimes we are given unbelievable signs that let us know that someone is always listening.