Years ago, I described writing poetry to my friend, Hollie, as
immersing yourself in a sea of emotion. Once consumed by the undertow of an emotion
you can either let it carry you through to the end of the current [hopefully you don’t
run out of air] or you can thrash about and drown yourself in it. I could
describe my recent emotional panic as the latter. Trying to kill the emotion
before it could kill me.
It was a terrifying experience; I don’t recommend it. The
sane thing to do would have been to holler for a life
preserver; but my pride kept me from going easy on myself. I even cried out to
God to rip the emotions out of my chest. And do you know what He did? He showed
me what they stemmed from so I could get over myself. Can you believe that? I
ask for a life raft and he tells me I can swim if I’d just calm down.
He was right of course, but I didn't have to like it. It took
me several days to climb back up into the boat, shaking my head at my own
ridiculous reaction to pain and fear (the fear being nothing more than my own creation).
How silly we are sometimes. The whole world seems backwards to us, all the
while they’re yelling at us, “Just stand up. You’re in two feet of water.” And
then we scowl at them later for their willingness to let us drown.
If you’re sinking, try to stand up. If that doesn't work,
demand a life preserver. When they deny you that, ask God to fork it over
already because no one else is. And if He happens to tell you to swim, you just
might find that you’re the only one who’s going to drag your ass out of the
swamp. You’ll resent them for a little while. But if you can manage it, you’ll be
stronger than an ogre and as free as the eagles.
If you're curious about my recent journey into the depths of my soul, you can read about it here: aseaofemotion.blogspot.com. It's not pretty.
