I see that smile.
The one that you think hides the pain. The one that, if you wear it enough, might even convince yourself that you're doing OK.
But your eyes give you away. Your eyes can't mask the pain that a half-forced smile can.
And the pain is real.
The result of broken promises. Broken vows. Betrayal and lies.
What was supposed to be the most secure thing this side of Heaven came crashing down on you.
The pain of long moments, sometimes years, holding onto the hope that if you just made it one more day, the next day would get better - and with enough of those days followed by a few more days it would turn into years not lost to emotional or physical separation - the hope we should all walk in when faced with trial.
But the pain is real.
And your smile - it's not all forced. There is a smile possible when the weight of trying to death-grip hold to faith, to promises, to what you know isn't impossible for God is relieved. Not that you gave up the fight, but that you took a breath and for a moment found the weight lifted.
The beginnings of a genuine smile lie there.
Nights of asking what's next, praying for the recovery of what is teetering on complete loss, waking up the next morning to tackle the world you know as parenthood and career is finally taking it's toll - strength can only be found for so long before a small crack becomes a fissure not easily repaired.
Yet, 'tis not a sign of weakness to cry. A lot. To let the uncertainty that our souls feel come to the surface and for a moment, get the best of us, but sometimes necessary.
For those who mourn cannot be comforted.
Those who never breathe deep can never take in the full measure of refreshment.
Those who never look away from the ground because they're so focused on making sure to avoid the next trap can never be carried by the open hand offered next to them because they can't see it.
A heart that doesn't break can never be mended - and in the mending find healing, strength, and the wisdom to minister the lesson unshakably to someone else.
The Arms of Comfort that want to wrap around you will erase the memory, even if just briefly, of the pain, but can't get around you when the pain becomes your secure feeling and place.
The deep Breath in can open your eyes to see another's soul, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to diffuse instead of instigate because you see their pain, their hurt, the demons they are battling and you'll find a grace that might just attempt to mend what little is left in lieu of total destruction.
There is a time to be focused on the traps, but do not forget the beauty around you. Great love can be imparted in a bird singing on a branch; a growing flower in the sidewalk; the pure laughter out of the belly of a child. If you never look around, how will you see? How many moments must you walk with a heart so hard that you refuse to even find the majesty in the simple?
It's OK to laugh in the middle of great pain. It's OK to let your guard down a bit to be in awe of a starry sky, even if it means a few more tears because for a moment, you feel love again.
And yes, that will still hurt in a way. But that's OK. At least you're feeling real love and not the pain of rejection from the one soul on Earth that vowed to God to never walk away. It's a two edged sword, I won't deny it.
But focus on the love - even for a brief moment - so your heart isn't lost for years trying to avoid the other side of that blade. I speak from long years of experience. It's not worth it. Love will always conquer the pain, it just may take a while. Don't grow weary in doing what's greatest.
To be broken. To lay what you cherish the most - that half of you tin whom you invested nights, months, years of tears and prayers and made the choice to stay day after day - on the altar like the child Isaac and know that if the throat is slit and the lifeblood drained that nothing is impossible for resurrection. But you have to put it there in order to get it back.
You have to lay your heart down to be emptied out of the strength you hope everyone sees, the strength you hope you have, the warm blanket that the pain has become, the resolve you have in your heart that every shred of your will has found to exercise.
Only in the moment of that emptiness can your heart and will finally be filled where it won't be sapped by a bad day, a bad word, a triggered memory. You have to make room for the greater. And yes, this typically involves a lot of tears and internal emotional violence, but, new wine is only made in empty skins.
But hang onto the smile. A day will come - and it may not be soon, but I promise you, it WILL come - when it will be genuine. And full. And radiant. And the world will know you are on the other side of the hardest part.
And your eyes will give you away then, too.
©Kristen Garcia 2-27-15
