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May 24, 2006
Deep Sea Diving (or just Diving in the Deep End of the Pool)
It's rare that I unearth memories that I've buried. They're not gone, but they were so painful at the time that I've just let other stuff cover them up. Like how ancient cities are still there, but the archaeologists have to dig up years and years of mud and silt to get to 'the good stuff.' These memories are still there, but they have been covered over by years of day by day occurences.
It's a mercy that these things don't stay in our immediate memories, isn't it? Maybe this is one way the Lord fulfills his promise to comfort the mourning and heal the brokenhearted.
I know that at the time, that was my mantra: that the Lord heals the brokenhearted and binds up all their wounds. Because I was broken, into a thousand tiny little shards. (Note the past tense verb in the previous sentence.)
You know how, when you play in the pool, and dive for the diving stick at the bottom of the deep end (12 feet!) and you get to the bottom but you have to breathe now--but the surface of the water is all the way up to the top and you have to wait to breathe till you get to the top? That's how that conversation was for me. Whew! I really had to catch my breath after that deep-diving, archaeology-dig chat we had!
But it was good to unearth, then let the memory slip back into the recesses where it belongs. Let it rest. Let it stay buried.
Ponderings. | By The Newest Worker | 11:09 PM
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