The Struggle Within

 We all have internal struggles that at times, seem overwhelming and without answer. For me, these conflicts arise from my fight to follow my heart or my head. In the end, I like to think I choose the better journey. One that will unite me with my soul and my Faith. 

I fell into my bed last night with the last gasp of day, resting between the coolness of my sheets and the warmth of my comforter. As I closed my eyes, I thought to myself; there are few feelings as gratifying that we encounter each day. Nestled in the safety and comfort of my bed, I was given the privilege to rest.

Only a few hours earlier I was wrestling with what I thought were very significant feelings. The power play at hand was my conscience knowing how insignificant these worries were. That as my life played out, none of them had ever come to fruition - None of them. Yet, in that moment, they were as real to me as the sky or the wind. After experiencing a disappointment, a falling apart of my plan, I called Doug from the car. Crying, I told him that things had not worked out as I PLANNED. He softly reassured me that he was always there for me and there was no need to cry. His words entered me and calmed me like the soft smell of lavender. After 43 years, he still knew how to speak to my heart directly, without judgement or pretense. As I hung up, I felt much better, but I was still filled with a bit of anger with how the situation had transpired. It was then that God took over. 

Driving down the street, while sitting at a stop light, I glanced to my right side. There sat a crippled man in a wheelchair, shaking a Dunkin Donuts cup. I tried to look away but was called back to look again. This time the man looked me right in the eyes. The red light seeming so much longer that it needed to be I squirmed in uncomfortable measure. When I looked one more time, He was smiling ear to ear. He appeared filled with joy. Simple, pure, joy! Just then the light turned. I could feel my tears drying around my eyes. Tears that were never meant to fall. 

I quickly turned around following the myriad of one-way streets trying to make my way back to him. I anxiously wove in and out of traffic begging for one more glance, one more chance to share all I have been given. Finally, a block away, I turned the corner, and he was gone. Vanished. How does that happen? I drove around in vain searching for any hint of him. To see his simple smile, that simple, moving smile.

I had missed the opportunity that had been put before me, so consumed was I with the frivolity of my personal struggle, I diminished his. A moment I could never get back. All the way home I argued with myself over not stopping in the first place, not opening my eyes to the gift God was giving me in his sweet smile.

Then my struggle turned to realization. I had not acted as I believe I should have acted when I was presented this opportunity. But I did act. I looked at him three times while at the stoplight. And he looked at me. Looking at me he invoked a stirring in my heart. So much so that I turned my car around to find him. When I couldn't find him, perhaps it was God's way of instilling gratitude into me that should have been there long before. It was God's time once again, not mine, not mine. 

Going to bed that night was never so perfect.