The Deep

There is no way to describe individual sorrow. No way to relate to others around us… Each has a deep that is hollowed out by the pain of life and penetrating reality. There is no way to avoid it; the pressure is all around, crushing like the depth of the ocean. I fall into the depth, into the abyss of empty wonder. Not fighting, not hoping; just falling into the nothingness and darkness of injustice and question. My heart feels as if it might burst from the environment around me. I fall deeper and deeper into this place. This dark place.


Yet, something inside of me knows that death is not imminent in the depths. There is provision for the overwhelming pressure; there is grace in the deep sorrow. I cannot escape what is down there in the depths. I cannot run from the truth. I know my salvation is in the deep. In the deepest cavern of my heart, there is light, there is something there waiting for me; as if this is where I was meant to be.

I am weak, not able to fight the drawing in; not able to run from the beckoning. I do not want to be here. It is too hard, too real, and too intense. The world has stopped and all there is, is me and the depth. I cannot face what is here. My heart beats, beats in rhythm, then stops; starts again; rages inside my chest. I feel a presence and cringe at what I might behold. My eyes tightly hold out the image, my body shrinking in defense, every muscle tight with fear.

Do I dare to open my eyes? Do I have enough courage to face what is waiting? I sit, as if a statue, hoping not to be noticed. I wait, for what, I have no idea; yet waiting is the time here. Patience is the minutes and perseverance is the hours. I want to yell. I want to scream and cuss and raise my fists. I want to pull out the promises and the words that kept me from falling here and demand answers for my pain. Instead, I curl up in fetal position, hoping this will all go away.

Then I realize that I am exhausted. My body aches from the fight, from the reality of feeling forgotten; I am done, too tired to fight, to angry to try. I want to be held, to be cherished, and taken care of. I want to experience goodness in the land of the living… but loss covers me like a blanket.

So there I wait. Not opening my eyes to see what is in the depths, not fighting, not even moving. My position is known, I am helpless, useless; all I want to do is hide. There in this unknown place, I wait. I wait for something and nothing and everything. A sigh leaves and my lips and I sink into the place where I lay.