Today I cry tears of pain on your behalf, because your pain is familiar to me. Familiar in a way that reminds me of the broken path I once traveled. You see, I recognize that laugh, one that is muffled by the pain of the past. I see through those eyes, the eyes that have no more room to hold anymore tears, and that heart that is tired of beating the same old tired tune. We do speak, but more in a language that is unfamiliar to most. Through our eye contact, we are saying, “I get you.” and by being in each others presence we are saying, “I”m here if you need me.” and if we listen closely we can hear the heartbeats which says, ” I understand,”

      For us, understanding is everything; to be able to speak without explanation. As each word is spoken, it brings a sense of comfort in the journey, the details are not necessary, but understood.  I understand how the  voices of the past keeps hitting replay in our future, and sometimes if seems easier to believe them than to fight them. No matter our efforts on rebuilding and recovering, that one voice suffocates our progress.  I understand  how we long to resemble the person others perceive us to be. A person of poise and strength and not easily broken, But, the truth is, we have silent tears that fall, tears that can’t be wiped way with a tissue dabbed against our eye, but tears that can only be healed through someone saying, “I get you.” Because, even tears remind us that the battle is not won, the wound is not completely healed, and in our minds, we have not recovered.

     Its baffling to me how we will allow someone to lay their dirty feet on the mat of our heart without so much as a fight.By replaying voices of the past, we assure them that they are always “welcome home.”  We push other good things aside in our life, in order to make room for pain. We welcome the familiarity of the pain in our heart, the tears that were once invisible become visible again. We surrender to the fight, waving our white flag to freedom. And once its over, once “the past” leaves, because longevity is not it’s thing, we realize how close we were to freedom; how close we were to breaking through to the other side. So we scream, “never again.” and stand strong and wait for the next opportunity to show our strength and courage. 

     We seem lost in a world where our heart can be free; although its something that we longed for while being captured.  Its like a slave who chooses slavery after being set free, a  prisoner who choose being locked up when the guard has opened the door. or a Christian who live in guilt and shame after the Lord forgives them of their sins.  How do we choose freedom after pain? How do we choose joy after the rain? How do we choose laughter after sadness? It’s a battle that must be fought daily, and the conscious effort to CHOOSE  to be someone who deserves to be free.

     Everyone needs a “person” that someone who, by their presence alone brings you comfort. Where you can feel the tightness around your shoulders relax, the frown in your forehead slowly release. Someone that when you are around them you can say, “I’m ok.”

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