Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Hum (06/06/13)
TITLE: The Subtle Sounds of Pain
By Rachel Malcolm
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Let it hurt. Stop fighting the pain. I always prided myself in being strong, never crying. But, I’ve never hurt so wholly before. I feel the grief tighten in my stomach, a quivering in my chest, an ache in my throat. The intensity of emotion frightens me as it rises from within and covers me completely.
The storm of tears ends as suddenly as it had begun. There is a strange sense of peace that I am surprised to find here at this place of suffering. I feel God’s love surrounding me like flowing water.
Slowly, I become deeply aware of my surroundings. All of my senses are awakened to a hum that seems to grow in depth. My gasping breath slows as I concentrate on the sound. Red flickers like static under my closed lids, and my whole body seems to be trembling with the sound.
On the surface, the harsh grating of a lawn mower seems to overpower everything else, but, there is more. My senses lift me into the treetops and I can hear the leaves trembling rapidly. The heat hasn’t subsided, but the sound cools me and I am awakened to another layer of the hum. I can hear the buzz of a bee as it flies from flower to flower, and then I can hear another… and another.
My pain is like the hum. There are so many layers to this pain. At times it is so consuming that I can’t hear or see anything but my pain. It shakes me. It grabs all of my attention and leaves me weak and drained of all other emotions. At other times, I am visiting and laughing, but suddenly it seems so strange to laugh and I can hear the pain again. It’s just below the surface.
I let my mind draw out the hum of the bees again. I settle here. The hum is always about me, yet I am often unaware of it. It is a small, and yet significant part of the tapestry of sounds that embrace me. I will always carry this pain. It will forever change me. Strangely, this thought is comforting. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to “move on.” Even the thought of those words makes my heart thump sickeningly. For me, it is synonymous with “moving away” … from my baby, of leaving her behind. I will carry her memory. I will carry my pain and let it change me, but I will not carry it alone.
Sweet Jesus, You are with me! Carry me in my sorrow and fill my life with a purpose bigger than myself. Let this sorrow be a catalyst for change that begins in my own life and pours out into the lives of others. Lord Jesus, love through me.
Author's note: the people and events in this story are fictional.
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