Drowning

Today it’s raining rather hard. The sky is unusually light for the amount of rain that’s falling. Walking in, I stood and stared skyward, stretched out my arms, and tried to open my eyes. There was water all around me – soaking my cloths, falling up my nose, getting into my eyes. The light grey clouds above almost seemed like a place I could escape to.

I read an article the other day about an elite surfer. He described what happens when you wipe out on a really big, serious wave. You go under violently, of course, but then the wave keeps pummeling you while you’re underwater. You open your eyes and look up, and the blazing sun dances its way through the ocean, reminding you of the peace and safety above. But you can’t get there – you have to endure and take your beating until the wave has passed and you can surface. The trick of it all is that you have to be strong enough to not drown until your pummeling is over with.

Recently I’ve been taking a beating like I’ve never felt before. I don’t know exactly when I fell off the really big wave, though I know now that I am surely underwater. I’m taking my licks as best I can. But I’m beginning to feel as though I’m drowning.

I stood outside today so I could look upward, and pretend I could see a light, and know that there was something up above that offered peace and safety. The trick of it all is that I need to be strong enough to not drown in the meantime.

I guess time will tell. But for right now, between me and you, I’m getting close to closing my eyes, opening my mouth, and taking in a big, final, breath of water.

Fortunately for me a car drives by and startles me. I walk into the ICU where sick patients need me. The rain beats against the windows – a reminder of the wave that is still crushing my heart.