Wednesday, March 2

An old comfort.

I have kept a journal for such a long time--through my teen years, into my college years, and even throughout my marriage. I have recently been reading back through some old entries, and I found this gem:

High into the sky I go
So far above the world below
The tears are now all mine alone
Freely flowing on their own.

The wind blows gently in my face
My legs control the even pace
The comfort that is never odd
When I swing alone with God.

As I read it, I felt my heart tighten. I had forgotten how much I loved to swing! Even throughout college, some of my best thinking was done on a swing set. There was a neighborhood park a few blocks from campus, and I went there A LOT. John and I had many important discussions on those swings. The lady who really invested in me during my college years often sat next to me while I cried my heart out and attempted to touch the sky with my feet. Sometimes after jogging around campus, I went by myself. I really LOVED to swing, and I had completely forgotten about it, perhaps even blocked those memories out. Why? I think mostly because I can't really swing anymore. Someone forgot to tell me that as you get older, swings make you dizzy. The last few times I have raced with my kiddos to see who could go the highest, I have found myself in last place and looking a little green. The joy that was once there is gone. I guess the reality of growing older is not lost in such a simple childhood toy--you grow up and realize that you really can't touch the sky, you really aren't in your own world, and eventually, you really have to put your feet back on the ground and make the best of what is left. Whatever that means...I wish I could go swing and figure it out.

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