You would think that if perhaps you knew the answer to this question, you could avoid heartaches and run the other way. Some old adages try to explain heartaches. We've all heard it said that "There's a reason for everything" and "If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger" which was always a favorite of mine. I only had one question about that though – how do you know if this is the one that WILL kill you? Then I stumbled upon the source of heartaches. God. Yes, God. The very person you're told to go to with your heartaches, is the source of them. And because He is the source of them, you can be sure they won't kill you and do happen for a reason. Every heartache passes through His hands first before it touches our lives. And God, as the perfect chemist, pours, measures, weighs, titrates, and mixes until the heartache is just the perfect strength for us to handle.
My heartaches always come out of nowhere. I never see them coming. God will stop me in my tracks by putting His hand on my shoulder. I'll look at Him and there he'll be with a huge beaker full of some scary looking stuff, "You want me to drink that?" I'll say. He says, Yes, and then I want you to walk on water." So I drink it, wipe my mouth on my sleeve and head toward the ocean. Ahh…walking on water, keeping my eyes on Him while splashing through the heartache. And so I go, day by day, repeating to myself, "Don't look down, don't look down", until I make my way to the other side where a crude cross waits in the distance.
I always pictured my walks to be across the waves on Cape Cod Bay as I wrangled with many matters of the heart over the years. As I stood on my beach today, I looked across that bay once again. It was such a clear day that I could make out the Pilgrim Monument in Provincetown. The current heartache beat inside me, and my mind was heavy with things I do not understand. I pictured my feet walking on the crest of the waves. I kept my head up, my eyes on the Monument.
After awhile, I turned and headed for home, heart quiet, mind calm, knowing I don't have to understand a thing, and faith once again intact. I picked up a rock and brought it home with me. As I walked up the sandy boardwalk, I thought that when I get home, I will write on the rock and place it by my chair to remind me each morning to keep my eyes focused on that monument.
And so, as another day goes by, I made way home as my sandals on the pavement tapped out "don't look down, don't look down, and…. I have written.
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