The Waters Always Calm

calmed
calmed

I wrote this in my journal last night and wasn't sure if I wanted to share it. It felt too sad and too real to post. But I was writing about waves of grief and pain and stumbled across this verse and it was a full circle moment. Because this is what I'm trying to say:

"He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves" Psalm 107:29.

He is forever. The storm is not.

It’s 11:31PM, and I should be asleep. I have to wake up at 6:30AM—really I should be up at 6:00, but that’s not happening. I need to get into the office early, I have therapy tomorrow and I just don’t want to be tired. I want to watch “Scandal” and “How to Get Away with Murder” with Hannah and Hannah tomorrow night and not be exhausted from the therapy much less the lack of sleep. But I have a lot on my mind and no words.

No words to say how sad and angry and tired and frustrated and confused and resentful and lonely and abandoned and grateful and hopeful and loved and supported and okay I am. Because October 3rd is coming and it means my mom will have been gone three years. And words and sentences don’t make sense right now.

It’s in these days leading up to that day that I ramble a lot, forget the point that I’m trying to make, become uncharacteristically quiet or nod my head like I’m hearing you but I’m not. I switch to autopilot without realizing I’ve made the switch.

And it’s because I want to understand—need to understand—why I have to remember this day. Can’t someone erase this one day from my memory? Even if she has to be gone, can’t I at least forget that she chose to leave? Please. C’mon.

Can’t the story be re-written with a different ending—no keep the same ending, I’ll deal with the ending but change the exit strategy.

These are the things I guess I want to say to God. These are the things I have said to Him in so many words. When I get swept up in the undercurrent of the pain and the emotion and I forget that the waves will pass, these are my prayers.

But the waters always calm. And I am now here and He’s got me. So I’ll trust in that and go to sleep now. At 12:05AM on September 24th.

Another day closer, I’ll trust. I’ll sleep because He makes it possible for me to rest in the middle of the stuff I can’t put into words. He’s calmed the waters yet again. The waves have stopped crashing. Amen? Amen.