“But how do I get out of here? I live here. I have lived here all of my married life. This is all I know. Can you show me the way out of this stink hole?”
After a brief sigh, he replied, “I wish I could. But I am not your counselor. I am not your guide. You have been given a Counselor who is infinitely wiser, infinitely more capable of love than I am. Seek Her voice. Reach out for Her hand. She will lead you out. Securely. Lovingly. Safely.”
And then the anger rose within me as I saw him all safe and dry in his damn boat. “But you're not up to your neck in fetid swamp water. You are without the sting of mosquitoes, without the persistent pestering of black gnats, without the constant stench of rot, without the fear of alligators haunting your future. You're in a fricking boat and can paddle your sweet ass out of here with even breaking a sweat. Why don't you just lift me up and carry me out of here?”
“You know why. The boat I came in is too small. If I tried to carry you, we both would sink.”
“Damn it! I HATE YOU FOR EVEN COMING!” And for the next few minutes, he reached out to hold my hand with both of his as I broke down and cried. And cried. And cried. Until I didn't think I could cry any more.
Then he gently kissed my hand and said, “Look down in the water where your tears are falling.”
And I watched in wonder as each drop rolled down my cheek and dripped one-by-one into the swamp. Where each drop landed, the water suddenly turned from scummy and opaque to crystalline blue and transparent. The muddy muck was turning to sapphire. And the gem-like drops were being sewn together into a thin stream, like a sparkling necklace leading gently away from where we were.
“OK. I think I see. I think I get it now. I am to follow the stream of tears. Right?”
He smiled broadly, “Your Counselor is giving you signs. You are seeing them with your eyes. Follow them with your heart dear friend, trusting, praying, and in faith. I can't tell you how to get out of here. But what I can tell you, truly, is that you will be protected. The alligators will be distracted. The mosquitoes and gnats will lose all taste for your blood, and the muck and mire you now feel with your toes will turn to paving stones guiding your way.”
And with that, he bent down, lifted my face in his hands, and kissed my cheek. “I love you with the Love that comes from the One whose image you and I both bear. And, yes. I will paddle my sweet ass out of here, but I am not leaving you. I will not forsake you. I am not turning my back on you. I will row backwards always facing you so that I can stay focused and attentive to where you are and where you are heading. I am committing myself to embracing your journey each day. Every day. For as long as it takes.
“And when you reach the shore, I will be there to embrace you. I will dance with you, jumping and swirling off and beyond into the sweetly scented meadow. I will share your joy as much as I am, now, sharing your sorrow.”
And as I watched through a veil of tears as he rowed away, I could already feel the muck under my feet hardening into paving stones. And for the first time in a long time, I felt my soul growing larger and taller and rising, not smaller and shorter and sinking.
And that filled me with hope which I know, with my entire being, is leading to a future joy.