I can’t go into details, because this story involves someone else – a couple of somebody elses, actually – and I don’t intend to cause them embarrassment.
Let’s just begin by saying I am highly intuitive. Some people might call me psychic, although that’s not a term I care for at all. Sometimes I just know things – things I haven’t seen, or been told, or read… I just know them.
For several weeks I had deep unhappy forebodings about a situation. I felt weighed down by what I perceived was happening. I saw what I thought was the worst possible thing that could happen, the one thing I didn’t think I could bear, and I begged God to protect me from having to face that one thing I thought I could never bear.
Then this week I learned that the thing I dreaded has happened, and the thing I thought I could not bear, I have to bear. There isn’t any choice. As in my favorite passage from Rosamunde Pilcher, below, there isn’t any way not to bear it, except to stop the world and get off, and there is no practical way to accomplish that.
The remarkable thing is that, now it has happened, it isn’t so unbearable as I thought I would be. Once the initial blows had landed – and they felt rather as if I’d been kicked in the solar plexus; when I thought it couldn’t get worse, a new blow landed that was worse than the ones before – I took my bearings and discovered that I can bear this loss after all. Not only that, but I can bear not getting the answers and the resolution that might make sense of the tragedy.
Detachment won’t be easy – it goes against my basic nature – but it is do-able, I can see that clearly now.
God’s hands are large enough to hold the individuals involved – and tender enough to soothe the aches and sorrows of a broken heart and grieved soul.