On Joy & Pain

When I was younger I use to believe I could only feel joy or pain. I believed I couldn't cry and laugh at the same time. I'm not sure where I heard this from, but I believed if you acted on both you'd be deemed "crazy." I thought you could only feel love or hate, again independent of each other, both existing in separate categories that could never mix a lot like bathtubs & toasters, forks & outlets, Orange juice & toothpaste...(you catching my drift?) With years I've learned like many things in this life, that both can co-exist and often if not almost always go hand-in-hand. I realized you can in fact feel love and hate all in the same breath, that both joy and pain can be felt at the very same moment you let out a deep sigh. I have come to realize that through the years there have been moments where I've laughed so hard till I cry and moments where I've cried so hard, that I look in the mirror and see how silly I look, and can't help but laugh, in between heavy sobs.

It is one of the most beautiful things that I have felt, these deep feelings that have more of an ebb and flow, rhythmic oceanic pattern - rather than a clear cut rigged stance.

I say all this because this past month has been a month filled with unspeakable joy. One moment I am standing in my moms kitchen surrounded by my family, laughing and smiling saying "Thank you Jesus, because you answer prayers." The next I am picking up my phone only to see protesters being pushed and pepper sprayed, seeing how the protesting has turned to rioting and looting, and asking God "When will we see this end?" Feeling my heart sink and holding back tears because it breaks me to see how we are still fighting against racial inequality. Thinking "What are we doing wrong, what can we do to help change the narrative in my lifetime?" One moment I am celebrating a birthday then turning around the next morning only to get dressed for a funeral. It is a hard thing to reconcile and make sense of, but I want to try.

This past month we had a family friend pass away, seemingly I wasn't "close" to him, I didn't really "know" him, I had only been around him a handful of times. Yet, as I have been trying to process his early passing, asking God "Why him?" There are a couple of things that I keep circling back to:

1. What kind of taste do I want to leave in peoples mouth? I was talking to my boss and he talked to me about James 4 where it talks about life being a vapor. "Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes." // James 4:14. For the most part the scripture is clear and pretty self explanatory, but he made emphasis on "vapor/midst" My boss said that sometimes we get a taste of the air around us, when our mouth is dry, and you're trying to stimulate the salivary glands, the air around you is palpable enough that you feel it on your tongue, but all you can literally is taste the dankness. **cringe. He went on to say that, if in fact our lives are vapors what kind of taste do we leave on peoples lips. Is it sweet, making others want more? Is it refreshing, feeling satisfied, like cold water on a hot Texas day? Or is it dank? Do you drain someone's energy, because you're always looking to make mountains out of mole hills? By a way of confession, I know I have been the latter, I know there are days wake up looking for an argument, so I leave the poor sales clerk - associate the worst taste of stagnate water on their lips. I know I have been terrible to good people in my life using them only for self-gratification because I'm "bored." For that I am terribly sorry. I want to do better

2. What kind of legacy will I leave? Legacy seems like this grandeur thing, but in reality we will all leave a legacy. For some it will be our children, for some it will be more a monetary stance, yet for others it will be the stories and people we inspire. How will I be remembered when my time here is done, Will my children's, children know who I am? Or will I just fade like footprints in the sand? I am not sure how to reconcile this one, other than I think we all want to be remembered and we all want to make a lasting impact in some shape or form. At least for me, I fear being unremarkable, at best bland. Again if I am honest, I'm afraid of being forgotten which when I say it, sounds dumb because obviously at some point I will be, but I want my impact to far outlive me as a person, I just don't know if that's honorable or if that makes me egocentric.

Our family friend made enough of an impression that while our interactions were few, across the board we all could agree he brought joy. He was one of those guys that you could tell was always going out of his way to make sure he brought light into peoples lives. He always had a huge smile on his face and I could hear his laugh before I ever saw him walk into the room. His vapor was one that always left a sweet taste and legacy is ones that extends past his 2 sweet babies, that will have to navigate this hectic world without a loving parent.

His funeral was one filled with so much laughter yet simultaneously a wiping of tears. I remember thinking in that moment, that if this is what "crazy" looks like I'm okay with it.

I'm learning that part of what makes this life so beautiful is the complexity of it. Feeling everything and nothing all at a moments notice. Friends, I don't know about you but I want to push into those feelings that at times feel uncomfortable, I want to press into all the love, joy, pain, triumph, failure, fear, sorrow, and goodness that I can possibly feel because that's what makes the life worth living. Here's to a year that has certainly left all of us wondering "How much more can we endure?" Here's to resiliency and holding onto the exceptional, while learning how to navigate through the thicket of pain.

With love,

Caro