I remember sitting at my desk in American History. We were taking a big unit test. Lots of vocabulary. I had already completed the oral part of the exam...reciting the "Gettysburg Address". I did well on all of it in large part because as I was reciting I could picture the words as they were written on the page in the text book. Just as I pictured the vocabulary words in the glossary. Even a multiple choice question would prompt me to see where the information was either in my notes or in the text book. It is kind of nerdy, I know.
I still have quite the photographic memory. Only it is not necessarily helping me to excel or achieve. If anything, it is holding onto me, even holding me back. I still see every moment of that day and even many of the days that followed. They play in my head like a silent movie, mostly black and white with splashes of color. Red that still stains my bathroom grout. Mauve plastic where they put her. Bright pink hand knit beauty in which I held her.
It may seem morbid, but it is what it is. A piece of my life and my heart. How do I hold on without letting it hold me back? So much of life is back to normal. But something grabs me and drags me back down in the quiet and dark, when everyone else slumbers it invades my thoughts and pulls me back to the despair. I crave the quiet even though it can be laden with fear of never being the same, guilt that my body failed, anxiety of what the future holds and doubt that any of this can be worked for good.
Though in the quiet is where I also find Him. He is waiting with open arms to carry me when it is just too hard. When the lies begin to pierce my shield of protection and I cannot release the hold of the destroyer...He swoops down and lifts me out of the pit, on wings like eagles. In that moment I soar with heart and eyes wide open. I see a different movie and it reminds me; not of what was or could be, but of what is. The Truth. That this world is broken, oh so broken but He and His promises are perfect, oh so perfect.