God, I am so grateful we had the chance to get away, even if the time was short. We saw lots of pelicans—You know how I love them—and rode the beach, looking for dolphin, which we did not see, and shell beds, which we did find at low tide. No big whelks, but a couple small ones, three olive shells, a slough of scallop shells, one large starfish, AND a purple starfish—which brought me right back to our first anniversary on Ocracoke, and finding all those purple starfish 20 years ago. Somewhere in all my film images is a photograph of me, looking delighted, holding a purple starfish. I felt that exact same delight this week! We heard a couple of our favorite Ocracoke musicians play live at a local restaurant one night, and ate lots of good local seafood while we were there. We saw a full moonrise and a warm, gentle sunset glow over the harbor and sound and sea. And we did relax, I know that.
This afternoon we continued our sort of laid back vibe with lunch on the deck at Coastal Cantina, and then we came home and sat on our own porch in our own swing, just content. I think what makes vacation idyllic is the absence—if only briefly—from the myriad of responsibilities we both take on when we are home. I say that and pause, listening. Kaylee just grunted, happily napping. The sound of the compressor is cutting off and on, telling me he is in the garage making a frame. Both the washer and dryer have stopped, prompting me to get up and switch loads and start a new one. Just little things, noises of our daily lives. But it felt good to have different sounds in our ears—laughing gulls vying for attention, and the loud horn of the ferry to Cedar Island, and the whoosh of breaking and receding water.
Now back at a sprawling hill of paperwork, I know we are going to need Your help to stay balanced and connected, especially as we, I mean he, works to clear his framing equipment out of our Nags Head spot. I love the busyness of summer, Lord, I do. I just don’t want to get lost in the pace. I keep telling myself, come his birthday, the move will be over and we will settle into yet another new routine. I pray it is gentler for him, God. Still productive—he needs that, needs the sense of that—but gentler. Honestly, I wasn’t sure we would ever get to take another vacation, even a mini vacation away, so these few days were beyond a treat. Which brings me back around to where I began, with Thank You.
You easily let yourself become burdened. You take on the angst of others, from family and friends to the world, and it is much too heavy for you. You are not Atlas. Your shoulders were never meant to bear such weight.
What about sympathy and compassion, God? I know You told me before, not to be an empath, per se. But what about compassion?
What else did I say?
Ha, to show mercy with cheerfulness. But You also said to weep with those who weep.
And…
And to rejoice with those who rejoice.
Every day, you can find reasons to weep. But every day, you can also find reasons to rejoice. Living solely in one realm or the other is not only unbalanced, it is not fully honest. But too many in your circle tend to live more focused on the reasons to weep than the reasons to rejoice. Some react with depression, some with cynicism, some with sarcasm, some with despair. Because there are also reasons to rejoice, I Am asking you to react with hope. To react with faith. To meet life’s challenges with an assurance that is grounded in My Love for you—and for everyone around you. I Am asking you to keep walking, to not give up—and that means, to keep hope alive for your business and for your most precious relationships. Continue to ask Me for ways that you and Pete can celebrate your love for each other while in the middle of a busy and sometimes stressful life. Ask Me for ways you two can rejoice together. You have had your share, and more than your share, of weeping together—and weeping alone. It is okay to ask Me to help you rejoice, to find those happenings in your lives together to rejoice over.
Lord, sometimes it seems as if our world together is shrinking. Like today, sitting on that swing.
And how did you feel in those moments?
Content. Truly content. He was feeling okay—that is a big issue for me, how he is feeling physically moment to moment. Maybe I shouldn’t let that influence my emotional mood, but honestly, it does. If he feels good, I can feel my whole body unwind and settle down. I think…I think I have become hyper-vigilant, and not in a good way necessarily. Kind of like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wanting to make sure I am right there to catch him if he falls—literally! As if I could. I hear myself sometimes and I just want to say to myself, be quiet already! Let the man be! But then I think, if I don’t watch out for him, who will? I feel like I am not doing my job, if I am not watching him like a hawk every minute.
And where does your joy go, in your vigilance?
Sheesh, out the proverbial clichéd window! Seriously, it just evaporates.
Then what makes you think your response is any part of My Will for you? Follow the Joy. Follow the Peace. Follow the Love. You think you are being loving, but actually you have elevated your worry and your stress over how he feels and tried to convince yourself these are spiritual, lofty responses. But they aren’t. They are very human responses to very real concerns. But don’t make the mistake of calling your worry or your stress faith. You know it isn’t. You know it doesn’t flow from the same place your contentment of this afternoon flowed from.
Ok, so this is not the direction I pictured this discussion going, but thank You. And I have a question. How AM I supposed to take care of him?
Well, not by assuming he cannot care for himself. And not by thinking your watchfulness will prevent anything or everything that you might label as “bad” from happening. Eve, your bodies are aging, both of you. Eventually the shell and cocoon all of you inhabit now will be swallowed up in a blissful eternity. That is not something to fear—you know that. It is not something to dread—you know that, too. And the reason I Am saying this now is, your worry, your stress, your fear, your dread are robbing you, both of you, of moments right now. Moments like this afternoon’s, in your swing. If you can find the courage and the peace within yourself to truly let go, and determine to rejoice in all there is to rejoice over, and to revel in every peaceful and joyful moment, you will first of all enjoy your days more, and second, receive the strength you need when the time comes that you do have to assume more of a caregiving role than you need to now. You found that strength with your folks, so you know what I mean. For now, rejoice more. Laugh more. Play more. Flow more. Think of these days and weeks and months, all your latter years together, like a halcyon Indian Summer. Just revel in your time together. You already have had more years than you initially hoped for. Keep enjoying all your minutes together. Find reasons to rejoice and watch the joy in your lives, in both your lives, increase again.
I can’t carry him.
You cannot. You will both fall, if you try. But you CAN walk alongside him, which is all he really wants. It is all I Am asking of you, too. And if you look deep in your own heart, it is also all you want, all you long for. Just walk alongside.
Beautiful … xx