I've always known that I am a runner. Not a runner in the athletic sense of the word (though I am striving daily to achieve that title). Instead, I mean a "runner" from problems. I flee controversy and hardship because I hate tough things. I despise hurting; whether I'm the one directly effected or I'm watching someone else hurt.
Over the past week, I have realized that there comes a time when you have to "man-up," so-to-speak and face the problems. Running from them really does no good except create more problems. I have no idea why its taken me this long to realize this. Perhaps I'm overly dense.
Watching someone you love and care about immensely, go through one of the toughest things they've ever had to deal with, really takes a toll on you, emotionally. This week has taught me that I have to put aside my own emotions and selfish desires and invest my love and care in this boy, who is hurting so much. I've failed miserably at it, at times - becoming frustrated and upset when he seems to be constantly sad and "moody." But then I think to myself - what if you were in his shoes, Sarah? How would you be acting? If I answered that question honestly, I'd know that I would be handling this situation a million times worse than he is.
I get awkward when people are sad. I don't know what to do or say. I haven't the first clue how to feel or even think. Should I be as sad as they are? Should I be happy and cheer them up? Should I change the subject? Should I ask them questions about how they feel? What should I do?! I ask myself these questions over and over and over. This week has taught me that sometimes you just need to be there. Be a warm body, with open arms. Have a smile ready to go, bring a box of tissues and a warm blanket. Sit on the couch and hold them. Love on them; show them you care, you are there, and you aren't leaving. Be selfless. I always want to fix the problem. I want to come up with an immediate answer to the predicament so we can move on to the next thing. But hardship and sadness doesn't get "fixed" with the wave of a magic wand or a snap of the fingers. It's a process. Grief is a process, healing is a process, life is a process. I can't allot an amount of "grieving" time for someone. Everyone heals differently and processes pain on a different timeline. The only thing I can do is sit, pray, love and care.
These rainy days certainly don't help our body's emotions. Staring out through the rain splashed window panes, things look bleak and uninviting. The world looks sad, gray and ugly. But we know there's sunshine out there somewhere. God has given us hope. There's hope in the little things.
Today, I looked for hope and I found it. Its not so hard to find. Hope is the yellow umbrella, sticking out like a beautiful ray of sunshine on a dark and lonely afternoon. Hope is the warm cup of tea that warms you deep into your innermost being when your whole body feels stiff and frigid. Hope is the soft cotton shirt you slide over your goose-bumped skin as your roll out of bed in the early morning. Hope is the fresh tube of toothpaste and the clean pair of socks you pull from the drawer.
There is a time for sadness, a time for grief, a time for pain. And through that, there is hope. Hope can be found, you just have to be willing to look for it.
