It was just slightly over a week ago I was playing in the ocean with Richard. He held my hand tightly as the waves bobbed us up and down, forward and to the right. He didn't let go when the sand shifted under my feet and I went down hard on my knees, coughing up seawater. He didn't let go when a particularly strong wave got hold of me and threatened to take me all the way back to shore. As long as he held my hand, I knew I was going to be okay.
That's an awful lot like it is for me in every day life. My challenges aren't exceptionally difficult. I don't have a serious illness, or a special needs baby, or anything like that. And yet. I still have challenges. They are real, and for me, they are hard. And sometimes they knock into me from behind and push me down, even though I thought I knew what to expect. Just like those waves of the Atlantic. Some waves were gentle, and some were a bit rough, but they just kept coming. There were times I was laughing my head off, and there were times I thought I was going down, but through it all I was okay, because I was holding Richard's hand.
There are times I'm so happy I think I'm dreaming, and there are times where I don't know how I'm going to get through the week. With him by my side, I know I can handle the hard things that come my way much better than if I had to go it alone. I'm so thankful I have that solid comfort...that I know I can depend on him. That I know I'm not alone. That yes, he's holding my hand, supporting me, but I'm doing the same for him. It wasn't just me that stumbled that day in the sea. But together we stayed above water. I'm still holding his hand, and he's holding mine, and neither of us are going to let go. And that makes everything okay.
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It's always our self we find in the sea.
~e.e. cummings
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