I like to imagine sometimes that I struggle alone. Even though they say that misery loves company, it would seem that it loves to feel unique. Maybe it loves to have others around to witness its existence, but it definitely likes to be alone it its issues. Because, if others knew what it was going through, surely they could not stand up without complaining; surely they would not be able to grapple with it better than us. Right?
And then, sometimes, I am mowed over by the realization that we're not alone. Perhaps no one goes through the same things at the same time, but I refuse to believe anymore that we are unique in our troubles.
I like to imagine that my questions are unique. That I struggle with a new issue no one has puzzled over before. That my answers will weigh heavily in the end, because they are the first of their kind. Some pioneers of a solitary field.
I guess I have a much bigger imagination than I give myself credit for.
I like to imagine myself so alienated, removed and distant from any rescue. To pretend that there are waters that Your Love cannot surmount, oh, God. To think that I can hide from it. Because, sometimes, Your love feels like breaking. Rending. Tearing, and not healing. And I'm silly, I know, that I would long to stay the same when so much surgery of the heart would heal me. So maybe, just keep working. And help me to be still.
