Another Trek Through Rising Waters

When it rains, it pours... and can continue for forty days and nights... until your world is under water. 


Life can be so beautiful for long periods of time, too, sure. But we've all experienced that flooding downpour. Some of us have a constant flood watch warning hovering over us at all times. 

Where my people at?

As I type this, I'm trying to encourage myself just as much as I'm hoping to bring a spark of joy back to your heart, too. Let's try to get there together. 

I've mentioned a few of the situations going on in my life already, so I won't repeat them all here. But yesterday we were hit with another rainstorm. It won't last forever, but it adds to the already knee-deep river we're walking through. 

That sucks. It takes a lot of energy to trek through rising waters. 

When you add on the weight of those you care for, even more difficult. 

How do you push past feelings of frustration and hopelessness you see in someone else? That's tough, isn't it? There's no way to control their thoughts, their feelings. Doing all you can to be positive and point to hope, but unsure if they're grasping it? Seeing another person you know and care about be put in the middle of a crossroad? Watching them nervously trying to sort through an unplanned event in their life? Witnessing the look change on their face when they receive some news they weren't expecting? Wanting so badly to take all the uncertainty and unease away from them?

That's the hardest thing about leadership, in my opinion. If you truly care about those you're leading - which in our case, man, do we! - it brings out some emotion when you have to deliver the news no one wants to hear. Aaron's honest and transparent, so I know he won't mind me sharing. When we finished our day yesterday, he shed a few tears thinking about the conversations he had earlier and the ones still ahead. He puts his all into people and projects... and because of that, he has an innate desire to protect those things. I love that about him more than mere words could ever say. But just as much, I hate how this unsteady life causes more pain for him because of that, too. 

Instead of laying down under water last night, we decided to look ahead and move a little quicker. Put some ideas on paper that could possibly grow into more amazing things. Sort through a list of what we've learned in these hard things. Remind ourselves that we will continue to focus on being good people and rolling with the punches. We won't stop. We'll observe. We'll learn. We'll grow.

And we'll do our best to help others do the same. 

Everything is a lesson, if we look it at that way. I'm not saying to put on a facade of happiness in all situations. Be human. Feel the feelings. But, once you've given yourself time to do that, take a few minutes to see how you can learn from whatever you just went through. There's something there, I promise. 

Today's post is shorter than most... mainly because I just don't have a lot to say at the moment. I'm taking a little time to be still, be quiet, and listen a little longer as I sit in it. 

That's helpful sometimes, too.

I will share a poem I wrote several years ago here, though, that came to mind as I began writing this. It, too, is about rain. This isn't the first time I've felt pursued by gray clouds for long periods of time. Absolutely not. I'm one of those "constant flood watch people" it seems. 

It's all good, though. I really like umbrellas. 

I appreciate the ones who stand next to me in the rain-

The torrential downpour of emotion that knocks the breath from the lungs

with each drop that hits the skin.

On the days it's soothing; liquid petals caressing the flesh, dried and weary from mental beatings-

Seeping in to satisfy the drought of relief and ease.

But those suffocating moments when every watery bullet cuts through every inch of comfort one possesses- 

a flood of chaos and confusion that just won't let up- 

destroying any familiar shelter, hiding all points of refuge. 

When the rain falls too thick and heavy to make out my own hand in front of my face, I feel yours clutch my arm;

a steadying constant in my life. 

While you can't stop the unpredictable outpouring of loaded questions that leave me drenched in disappointment-

you stand there and feel it with me.

Thank you. 

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