Within

“Are you there, God it’s me…” the words left my mouth sounding desperate, but I guess I was, “I know I’ve never reached out to you before, but I need some sort of closure,” my words fell short.

I’d stopped believing in any sort of religion, no matter how many times my parents had dragged me to church on a Sunday. Growing up, I believed religion was a way for people to turn a blind eye to their misfortunes. As if they needed a reason to think life had better plans if they just believed in someone stronger than they were, then the almighty would answer your prayers. Yeah, right.

By the time I was eight I stopped trying to convince myself that there was some holy being looking over me. If there was then why did my life fall apart and was never put back together? All my hope in a God left my body and never returned.

Now, here I sat talking to a man I long put off as if he never existed in my heart to begin with. It’d been twenty years since I lost all faith, but I knew I couldn’t keep running from the truth.

The truth was, it didn’t matter if God were real, all that mattered was my desire to believe in someone greater than myself. Someone who could make me hope my pain is heard when no one else hears it.

“My pain has followed me throughout my childhood and now… now I suffer as an adult too,” my words caught in my throat, but I refused to shed a single tear.

I hadn’t let myself cry for anything less than physical pain felt, because the pain in my heart was nothing more than a weakness. The world was cold and cruel; it didn’t deserve my heart or the pain I’d felt inside.

I dropped to my knees with a force that sent pain shooting through them, but I ignored it. The damp grass felt cool as water soaked through my jeans and touched my skin. It had stopped raining, but the thunder told of more rain to come. The storm wasn’t over as it threatened to brew into something more furious.

The crackle of lightning lit the dark gray sky, which resembled the spark desperate to ignite inside myself as the boom of thunder followed. My heartbeat to the rhythm of the brewing storm and I’d never felt more alive than at this moment.

There wasn’t a soul in sight. No one would be stupid enough to stand in the middle of an open field during a lightning storm. Especially, not one as angry as the one stirring above. No one except myself.

“Answer me!” I screamed as my voice broke from the strain on my vocal cords, but I didn’t care.

It was time to let myself feel. I needed to feel.

That was when the rain let loose with all its might, and I finally drowned out those thoughts of doubt and resentment. My clothes were heavy and cold as they absorbed every drop of water, until they weighed and clung to every inch of my flesh beneath.

“Are you there, God it’s me…” I whispered beneath my breath as I hung my head.

“Are you there, God…”

“Are you there…”

The silence only confirmed that I was here alone. My thoughts were mine to confront alone. Then, why did I feel a sliver of hope? It was like I opened my heart and let my pain go.

I let go.

There was no room for love or hope when I closed off my heart to keep out the pain. It wasn’t the pain I’d been keeping out; it was the pain I’d been keeping in. I see that now. I felt the weight it left behind was being lifted. My heart still weighed heavy, but the pain was now slowly letting go.

The heavy downpour of rain became a drizzle, until the storm was once again the clad of lightning and the echo of thunder blossoming the sky. It became less frequent, but the storm never let up.

Truthfully, pain never leaves but the strength of its blow lessens over time. I saw that now, but I refused to believe he heard my prayers. Perhaps he didn’t have to. All he had to hear was my heart. My heart that had been silent beneath the thunderstorm that drowned all my sorrows within it.

I desperately wanted to believe that God hadn’t heard my pain when I let him in. If such a being existed, then why did he let my pain begin? I was only eight, I’d had faith that he’d protect me from harm. How could he take what I wasn’t ready to give?

“This isn’t me accepting you as being real,” I yelled at that sky. It was still gloomy with the distant sounds of the passing storm.

“You stole part of my heart and left the rest to bleed out,” this time my voice sounded defeated. It was weak and nearly muted.

I refused to let him win, “This is all your fault. I wish I’d never let you in,” the words turned to sobs. For the first time in twenty years, I cried and shed all those pent-up tears.

“Why?” I pleaded, “Why did you take him back then?”

I knew there wasn’t an answer waiting to be said, I’d spent my entire life wishing it were me instead. Why did I have to feel the pain and miss those words left unsaid?

“How do I let the pain go?” I begged but this time my words weren’t meant for God, but something I needed to admit to myself. I needed to let go. I wanted to let go.

The gray sky began to fade, and the only reminder left of the havoc the storm had reeked was the wet ground and the cool damp air. The sun had yet to shine, but the hint of it was clear.

“Are you there, God it’s me,” I felt a sense of ease, “I get it now. I just needed to face the storm that brewed inside of me. I needed to find myself and just believe that I could be set free.” I opened my eyes to stare down at the name engraved on the tombstone.

The sun caressed my face and skin, and I soaked it all in. Too long had I let the rain drown me from the warmth. I took a deep breath, the air smelt of fresh cut grass and my mother’s rosemary lilac perfume.

She stood beside me without a single tear to fill her eyes, instead she wore a smile. The kind that felt whole and meant for someone who couldn’t see it but feel it’s presence. Her eyes stayed locked on the grave with a look of acceptance. It was a look I’d come to recognize. The same look she’d always wore when we stood in silence here.

“Do you mind if I ask what you are thinking about?” the question sounded odd even for me, but I needed to know. How did she make her pain look easy?

Her eyes had finally found mine and held them for several moments before she spoke, “How blessed I was to have been able to share a life with this man, even if it weren’t long. It was a life I would choose every time, even if the outcome were the same,” she paused as if to think of her next words carefully, “Loving your father felt infinite, but the pain of losing him feels like a lifetime. Life is short but infinite is forever. I’d choose a love that felt like it last forever than not having felt love at all in my lifetime.”

She returned her attention back to my father’s tombstone, “You had been given something no one else will ever have, your father’s love. A love that was different than the kind he felt for me. A love that was meant only for you. When you find that love again, you will understand how to let the pain pass and not hold it in.”

Are you there, God it’s me… I understand now what it means to believe.