Life.

Sometimes it just hits you …

There is the moment when I realise my concrete ideas and understanding of what and why I am here melt into an abstract form. In the end the abstract devolves further to become a brownish glob of confusion, second guessing and frustration with myself.

There is the moment when someone not on my “reasons to return home” list gets sick or has a scare of serious sickness. And I come face to face with the reality of my non-emotional choices of when to stay and when to go.

There is the moment when the struggles and issues other’s have comes crashing into my house. It effects my living situation, my choices, my attitude and my future. I did not ask for it, but it came.

Then there is the moment when my best friend faces one of those issues that changes their lives forever. They are tasked with making decisions that will forever alter who they are … where life will never be the same. And I am not there to be useless in person with them. I cannot offer the hug that I so desperately want to give; I cannot offer action to back up my words. I can only sit here, on this side of the ocean and wish differently for them.

Once when we were visiting my Granny and Grandpa, my brothers and I were playing with a pony that one of our relatives brought over. The boys were acting like they were in a big thriller action movie – being cowboys chasing bad guys and shooting each other then falling off the pony as they died – as one of the boys fell off the pony he freaked out a bit and grabbed the poor animals ear in an effort to soften his own fall. For obvious reasons the pony did not like that. In response, the pony reared his back legs and landed a swift kick, square in the middle of my chest (thank you Jesus for sternums). It knocked the wind right out of me and I could not breathe. Eventually I could breathe again (and my fright over the situation was quickly replaced with anger at the dumb boys for pulling on the pony’s ear and making him kick me). As I headed to the bath that night, I noticed a bruise in the shape of a perfect horse shoe. It was turned upwards and Grandpa said it was turned that way because it was holding in all the good luck for me not to have gotten hurt.

That is how I feel now, like I got kicked in the chest. Only this time, I have to choose how I quickly and well I recover. I want to let all these circumstances that have hit me in life right now become a part of me. I want them to seep into all areas of my life so that I can continue to grow but I want that to happen without them turning me upside down to let all the good in my life fall out and slip away. I want desperately for my bruise to be turned upright to hold in all the blessings of my life.