“When the stillness of night
is your passionate foe: I am there.”
The words came as a gentle lapping on cries that would not be stilled. I inhaled. I could not get enough.
There is a flip side to autism; a side I have always experienced alone. That place is filled with midnight hours and sleepless nights and terrible dreams on video screens that I cannot halt. A reliving of everything that my mind cannot escape from the days that have rolled through me. It is a dark place. Tears are to be planned for; despair a way of life. I am still learning to get up and dance my way out of these heavy moments…I am not there yet, but I will be.
When even daylight gives me no reprieve, I find my way to the water, and, for a moment, I am complete. I stop feeling sad. I stop feeling overwhelmed. I stop feeling so alone. These waters, these mountains, they echo the heart of someone who seems to know: “Do not despair. It will all be okay.” I don’t always believe what I hear, but I reach out to trust. What do we have if we have not hope?
Today, these words are written for every heart that feels a little too heavy, a little too ashamed or more than a little afraid –
For the father carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders,
For the mother encapsulated by grief,
For the daughter too scared to breathe,
For the son afraid to succeed,
For the family living out loss,
For the hearts, just too weary:
There is a Daylight on the way. Hold out for hope, even if for just this moment. There is an Invisible hand holding yours.
“God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.” – Rumi