I haven't written anything significant for a while. It isn't due to the lack of ideas, random thoughts and sentiments or inspiration. I choose not to write because I felt there isn't anything special to talk about. Seriously, what could be interesting in my life?
But these past two days of physical pain changed my heart. I needed to write. Writing has always been my healing space. I didn't really care much of how would people perceive and judge my writing which includes grammatical errors and wrong spellings, but I do care about taking into account whatever experiences that I have learned from and I value the goodness and mercy of God in each of these events and in wanting to remember I have to write about it.
Now I've said physical pain changed my heart and it was true. I have never been dead tired in my life like that of these past two days. There have been times I was afraid that my heart would suddenly stop. There have been moments when I felt like I have exhausted all the oxygen in my body and that I would just pass out. My muscles and every sinews that connects them scream as I push forward to do the things I was tasked to do. For you to have an idea, try to carry a variation of 5-15 kilos of something and try to bring it to the third floor by foot countless times within the day in the heat of summer. I have been literally bathing in sweat but there were times I felt like they were blood, and though I wanted to cry I just couldn't, I felt like my eyes were deprived of any fluid as they have been all used up by the other parts of the body.
I may sound complaining and perhaps I am, forgive me then. But let me tell you that in times when I feel this kind of pain and pressure I become reflective of who I am and how much I have been loved. I have a simple antidote for this kind of difficulties, I would think of how much the cross weight on his shoulders, of how painful were the thorns crushing and destroying his very muscles and tissues, how it felt to be really thirsty and that being given a decent drink is impossible. Then and there I would feel relieved, I would find the strength to carry on and finish. No, I have not been deserving of all that he did for me and I will never be, and that, that breaks my heart in a very beautiful way.
I have needed this kind of pain for a long time. The days when I have chosen not to write were days I let loose of what is eternally important for me. Those days have been like a haunting pair of regrets and what might have been coupled with anxiety and fear for what is to come. I have been asking and wondering of the things I have given up and fearful that I would end up a loser. It's been like the physical pain surfaced the emotional and spiritual turmoil I have been going through.
So there you go, I haven't figure everything out yet, so to speak. I'm still battling and for the coming week the days will still be tiring, far less from the previous two but nevertheless tiring. However, I've decided that I am going to celebrate these tiresome and painful days. Suffering seems to keep me on track. Cheer me up. Fighting!!!
