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Writer's pictureClaira

Perseverance in all seasons




The last month or so, I have felt like God is testing me, or maybe trying to show me something. Either I have been too stubborn to see it, or I’m missing pieces to this elusive image he’s trying to paint right in front of me. I suppose, ultimately only time can tell.

Every moment of friction I have been met with for a while now, has been a direct reflection of old wounds I thought had since healed over. As of late, they feel sheared open and exposed. I want to conceal them and tuck them all away to heal where no one can put together the weight they have been adding to my shoulders.

There’s a fear it’s been written all over my face. That its been tainting my deameanor and I carry them around with my like a storm cloud just above my shoulder. That anyone who knows me looks at me like a fool for carrying around age old hurt in the face of new adversities. In my mind my loved ones look and me and think, “I thought she had made so much progress in life. I’m not surprised, simply disappointed.” Then they all shrug their shoulders, go on about their days and never think of it again.

As a result of that very bleak, very daunting image in my head- I notice myself falling into old strategies I worked hard to not resort to. In the moment it feels like self preservation, protection of some sort. Ultimately, it’s just making everything harder on myself.

It feels like the only place I have to place all these fears and all this hurt is either close around my heart or compartmentalized in the back of my psyche. Like the only way to push through all of this, is to detach. All the while I am desperately craving the solace of being seen by someone, validated and comforted by my support systems. I can’t even figure how to unpack all of that if I am being completely honest with you guys.

I keep telling myself there is meaning in all of this, somewhere. Something to learn. Something great awaiting just beyond the horizons, it’s just not in view quite yet. I am holding desperately to the faith that all things happen for a reason, I’m not fumbling I am just being taught some lesson I haven’t put together yet. But the patience, and the resilience it takes to be patient- man it feels like it’s own wound.

I am trying so hard to conceal and heal, all the while I am taking care of everyone around me. My son, my patients, my family and all of their wounds, my friends.

I find myself wishing I could stop time, just for a moment, and check a few things off my list. Then simply hit resume and feel a little more at ease. Feel achievement.

I have been reminding myself it is just a season. All seasons come and eventually pass. In that, repetition can be found. However so can peace and positivity. So, when I can I find somewhere quiet. I find somewhere in nature, by the water or by an old tree. And I listen, I listen and pray and try to hear what God is telling me. I hear the water ripple, the leaves dance, and remember there is still beauty.

Maybe some of you can relate, and I hope you find a semblance of being seen and validated that you are not alone in these seasons. As always,

Be safe,

Claira

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