Weightless
This last week, I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours at the beach. My youngest daughter attended a wonderful camp, centered around Marine Biology, which is one of her passions.
The day before I dropped her off, we spent a few hours in the ocean and on the sand. The following day, I went back to the beach before driving back home.
I don't have the real vocabulary for what happened, upon spending time there. It is still with me today, as I spent time there again, a mere 48 hours ago, before picking her up.
I have seen the ocean before.
I have been to the beach before.
I lived in Florida for a while and experienced the ocean almost weekly.
I truly loved it.
But, there is something so different this time. The waves still come in and crash on the shore, the gulls sing overhead, the children make sandcastles, but the difference now is how I see it; because now I am so different.
I have walked through about 18 months of complete and utter devastation. My health, my heart, my finances, many of my relationships, have all taken a beating. Okay, more like a beat down, in need of life support. ( without any cute ER docs thank you )
Maybe it's because 50 is looming, or maybe because of the emotional fallout of these last months, but I couldn't shake the "magic" of it all this time.
I have never been able to afford a luxury vacation at a beach resort or even a full week at a Motel 6 at the beach, but this time....none of that mattered.
As I was weightless in the cool embrace of the ocean, I felt the sting of tears and the call of something completely new. I sat on shore and counted the different shades of blue, from the indigo horizon to the transparent pale aqua before the pearly foam. It was all different. It was all about that magical, beautiful, weightless moment.
Weightless. That imagery alone could fill 100 blogs.
I have struggled with my weight and my self image for as long as I can remember. I knew all the tricks of "covering up," of wearing black, of "dressing for my shape," and I pulled it off. Or so I thought. But, summer was a different story. I hated how I looked in a bathing suit or I suppose the better analogy would be: I hated how I didn't look. It didn't matter my age, or my size, it was always an issue with me.
Chronic illness and pain only inflated the insecurity and inadequacy, as I dealt with physical limitations internally as well as externally.
But, this time...this time...
the weight of my heart
the weight of my hurts
the weight of well, my body
None of it mattered. For one incredible, freeing "weightless" moment, I was just a woman in the magical, beautiful, all encompassing, ocean and it was glorious. I never wanted to leave.
Not: How do I look?
Not: What am I going to do?
Not: How am I going to fix this?
Not: How am I going to find the money to pay that?
Not: How, what, when, where, why???
In that cerulean embrace of His third day's creation, I swam. I looked for shells. I dove under high waves. I floated with the legends of mermaids, and I was weightless.
"Therefore seeing we also are surrounded with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily ensnare us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us." ( Hebrews 12:1 KJV2000 )
So, if I am to lay aside these weights....( literally and figuratively ) I have to be patient while I am still running this race before me. There are days when I have felt so completely abandoned on that race track, but since I'm surrounded by those cheering me on ( who've gone before ) I can keep going. My race has nothing to do with who hasn't been there or who has; weightless or not, depends on whom I am counting to be at that finish line.
He is not only the prize, He is the one holding me up so I can be weightless.
The weightless runner, swimmer, woman, person will win every time.
As we were driving back home yesterday, my daughter told me every detail of her marvelous week at camp. She said, this week she spent at the sea, sealed everything for her.
It has for me too, sweetheart. It has for me too.
The day before I dropped her off, we spent a few hours in the ocean and on the sand. The following day, I went back to the beach before driving back home. I don't have the real vocabulary for what happened, upon spending time there. It is still with me today, as I spent time there again, a mere 48 hours ago, before picking her up.
I have seen the ocean before.
I have been to the beach before.
I lived in Florida for a while and experienced the ocean almost weekly.
I truly loved it.
But, there is something so different this time. The waves still come in and crash on the shore, the gulls sing overhead, the children make sandcastles, but the difference now is how I see it; because now I am so different.
I have walked through about 18 months of complete and utter devastation. My health, my heart, my finances, many of my relationships, have all taken a beating. Okay, more like a beat down, in need of life support. ( without any cute ER docs thank you )
Maybe it's because 50 is looming, or maybe because of the emotional fallout of these last months, but I couldn't shake the "magic" of it all this time.
I have never been able to afford a luxury vacation at a beach resort or even a full week at a Motel 6 at the beach, but this time....none of that mattered.
As I was weightless in the cool embrace of the ocean, I felt the sting of tears and the call of something completely new. I sat on shore and counted the different shades of blue, from the indigo horizon to the transparent pale aqua before the pearly foam. It was all different. It was all about that magical, beautiful, weightless moment.
Weightless. That imagery alone could fill 100 blogs.
I have struggled with my weight and my self image for as long as I can remember. I knew all the tricks of "covering up," of wearing black, of "dressing for my shape," and I pulled it off. Or so I thought. But, summer was a different story. I hated how I looked in a bathing suit or I suppose the better analogy would be: I hated how I didn't look. It didn't matter my age, or my size, it was always an issue with me.
Chronic illness and pain only inflated the insecurity and inadequacy, as I dealt with physical limitations internally as well as externally.
But, this time...this time...
the weight of my heart
the weight of my hurts
the weight of well, my body
None of it mattered. For one incredible, freeing "weightless" moment, I was just a woman in the magical, beautiful, all encompassing, ocean and it was glorious. I never wanted to leave.
Not: How do I look?
Not: What am I going to do?
Not: How am I going to fix this?
Not: How am I going to find the money to pay that?
Not: How, what, when, where, why???
In that cerulean embrace of His third day's creation, I swam. I looked for shells. I dove under high waves. I floated with the legends of mermaids, and I was weightless.
"Therefore seeing we also are surrounded with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily ensnare us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us." ( Hebrews 12:1 KJV2000 )
So, if I am to lay aside these weights....( literally and figuratively ) I have to be patient while I am still running this race before me. There are days when I have felt so completely abandoned on that race track, but since I'm surrounded by those cheering me on ( who've gone before ) I can keep going. My race has nothing to do with who hasn't been there or who has; weightless or not, depends on whom I am counting to be at that finish line.
He is not only the prize, He is the one holding me up so I can be weightless.
The weightless runner, swimmer, woman, person will win every time.
As we were driving back home yesterday, my daughter told me every detail of her marvelous week at camp. She said, this week she spent at the sea, sealed everything for her.
It has for me too, sweetheart. It has for me too.
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