A blog intensifying the flavor of life and toasting those who share in the feast, rather than settling for a dry, plain, melba toast existence.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

callouses

Due to the nature of my art, I often form callouses on the fingers I use most for hand sewing. The extra layers of skin serve to help shield the ends of my fingers from the sharp end of the needle that still manages to surprise me when I'm not fully alert. Sometimes when my hands become abnormally dry, since I wash them constantly in my other life as a preschool teacher, the tips of my calloused fingers will crack open and bleed. In order for the pain to subside, new callouses must form.

My heart, in a figurative sense, suffers the same condition as my fingers.

The way the process works is that in times of sadness, after the tears have dried up and the attempt for reflection and analysis has been made, I expect a resolution. But when answers are not forthcoming and the pain becomes too much to bear, a callous begins to form. Imperceptible at first it is nothing more than a less emotional response to words and images that would have previously evoked a deeper reaction. As a second layer of callous is well on its way of forming, I do not give my condition much thought, and look for distractions. And just when it would seem that numbness would set in, it is as though this thick callous of indifference actually gives itself one more chance by becoming angry.

Anger can be a powerful agent in motivating oneself to do and say things otherwise unthinkable. But when it comes to solving problems, anger falls far short. It wields its ugly head in defiance to reason and with whatever energy it can gather it takes on the matter at hand with judgment, not mercy and a strength that is not tempered with love. It seeks its own immediate gratification and not the long-suffering road once familiar to someone who values harmonious relationships. An answer must be found, anger decides. Caution is thrown to the wind. The possibilities of casualties mount. Anything resembling a peaceful solution be damned.

It is precisely at that moment of reckoning, when the callous on my heart breaks open, that I am startled back into reality. I once again experience clarity in my thinking and see how my need to resolve a situation resulted in more pain.

I remember a time after many months of suffering asking God what I could do that would be as outrageous as what had been done to me by the person I was at war with. In the heat of the battle, the Spirit of God spoke to my heart and told me that what I was trying to obtain was not mine. Gripped with anger and fear, but before I could even formulate a response, the still small voice in my heart reassured me that the other person was not meant to obtain it either. Provision belonged to the Lord as it always had. My calloused heart of stone returned to a heart of flesh and I was able to forgive the person I saw as my enemy and forgive myself for giving her that title.

And yet I continue to engage in a struggle to keep the callouses from forming on my heart when difficult situations arise. I find myself wanting to logically and intellectually solve issues that can only be dealt with by the Almighty. As I keep looking for new possibilities, options to try, paths yet untaken to traverse, right on schedule the callous breaks open and I welcome the pain I tried so hard to avoid, knowing that having faith doesn't mean having answers to trust in; it means having the willingness to trust in the One who has the answers.




     

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