(From the same time periods as yesterday's post. Which you may want to read first, as this is a continuation.)
“In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
I remember, so distinctly, after that terrible, terrible winter of 2010 (the diagnosis, then the miscarriage) feeling the most light and free I have ever felt in my life. After coming through that dark night of the soul (which was a compound of many difficult years in a row), the lightness at the end was truly amazing.
There's one moment that's etched in my mind: driving away for the last time, our car packed full with the things we were driving with us to New Jersey and my smile could not be contained. My smile was so broad I thought my face would crack from joy.
I am not quite yet to the place where I can touch that boundless joy in the middle of the pain. Not quite. I can feel it, but I can't quite touch it yet, but I know it is there. Maybe that's how to touch it. I don't know. I know it gets stronger, the more I survive.
Oh the joy of surviving that which doesn't feel survivable is immense.
How many times does one have to go through pain to realize it is survivable? Coming up on forty, I am starting to feel this truth. Starting. My life is just beginning to get great, if that's the case. Embracing the trust that all is survivable, until it isn't, and really, it isn't my job to worry about after.
Within me, an invincible love.