Found

So I've been working on this for a while and it's finally feeling at least blog-ready. I'll probably keep tweaking, but this is it for now...

I once knew a girl who never rested. Her eyes were see-through and leaky, and her mouth was tight. I walked with her. And even though we only talked the few moments before she slept, I knew her thoughts. Like screaming neon signs, some of them were. The rest were threadbare. Two gears; blaring and faded.

GET AWAY FROM ME

Where's my voice

I'M TOO TIRED

Help

LOOK AWAY

Take me home

DON'T TOUCH ME

Let me sleep

IS THIS IT

She was an uncovered nerve. How do you rest when everything pricks. Everything pricks. So I tried to be small and still, but my stillness made it worse. In the quiet she went gray. And with nothing to say, she turned on music and danced in angled jerks. Throwing herself around the room, falling and rising. Some watched, others joined in, and a few tried to be her partners.

Those who watched never stayed for long. It was too terrible to see.
Those who joined in made for a crowd, and she'd leave to find any empty room.
And her partners became too bruised to last a whole song.

One morning, while I sat with her sleeping near my feet, I heard something new. New felt good. It could have been anything, as long as it was new. It sounded like a gentle whistle. And my heart beat faster. Hearing something gentle was like finally breathing. Sitting on the tippy edge of a deep, deep well had been our days. We sat in the dark, staring into the dark, feeling nothing with our feet. And now something else was here. And it was good.

This sound grew, not louder, but bigger and warmer. I could see a flush in her skin, even while she slept. Oh if she only knew about this something calling to us. She would disappear. Or explode. Either way, I was standing right in between afraid and captivated. But it was too good to run from.

And then, without stirring, she opened her eyes, and I braced myself. As this good hung in the air around us, she lay still and waited. She never waited. Waiting rubbed her skin raw because it offered no distraction. But in this space she waited.

We waited. And I hoped with all my muscles and blood and skin that it wouldn’t go away. We waited. And it was so good. Just being with this sweet warmth made my lungs grow bigger.

And then a wonder.

Hands began to reach. And I don’t know whether they were mine or hers, but this Good answered us with a swelling to meet every inch of our outsides and insides both. I could feel the heat of knowing eyes. There was exhaling and inhaling and folding up and stretching out. There was becoming. Pain was being discovered and uncovered, and covered by grace and by justice. Covered and seen and met and loved. The wounds remained, but we were not alone and we were being rescued. A crumpled form became easy lines became something true. And we stood up on new legs, ready to be with Him.

This girl who never rested held hands with love. And there was rest.

And I was one again. Beckoned by compassion. Fused by Truth.