The pain in my heart breaks through to my mind. The ball of pain rides every wave, pinging every emotion. I delete post after post. Nothing is right. Nothing I can say or write is right. The pressure in my chest tightens. Where is air?
Shelli, what is wrong with you?
I long for my grandmother.
When life gets tough, when I want to cry … I want my grandmother.
I can hear her laughter on the phone. I can see and feel and smell everything about her. White Shoulders. Her tiny Avon lipstick samples. Bengay. Pond’s cold cream.
She was my go-to person all my life. And my vision clouds over with tears. I want to sit in her lap and hear her say, “No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my baby.”
But she’s in Heaven, and I’m here.
Father, I feel an incredible emptiness in my heart and head. Do you hear me? Do you understand? What can I do?
And I hear my Father say, “Shelli Ann, come sit with me.”
My knees cap the ground.
“You’ve been a Martha far too long, trying to avoid feeling. Staying busy to avoid feeling. It’s time for you to be a Mary. Come sit at my feet. Remain here. And feel. Cry. Want me. Long for me. Let me be your go-to person. I’m the only one who has ever filled that emptiness in your life, in your heart.”
My hands touch His knees, and my tears drip to His feet. I wipe the dampness on His feet with the only thing I possess–my hair. My focus returns to His face.
“Don’t you see? You’re missing me. Come to me. See and feel everything about me. Because no matter how big you get, you’ll always be my baby.”
Do you become a Martha when you hurt? Do you stay busy to avoid feeling? Do you ever hear the Father’s reminder to become a Mary?