desert heart

we drove up the winding road, juarez just visible beneath a blanket of smog. i stared at the vastness of the desert around me and rubbed some lotion between my fingers. everything was just so...dry. 

i thought of how i woke up that morning, the sun's rays peeking through the dusty curtains. i hadn't even fully opened my eyes and i could feel the weight of the atmosphere around me. this wasn't humidity, though. this was something all-together different. i recognized it.

hopelessness.

it was as if the whole city breathed it. i stretched as best i could, trying to realign the ratio between my head and my heart. i wake up these mornings with my whole body feeling heavy. it takes twice as long for me to even form some sort of coherent thought, my brain clouded with images and feelings of those around me.

and just like that expansive desert that seems to stretch for days, my heart seemed to echo the want of respite. some type of restoration.

what does it say in the Psalms? something about the heart longing for reprieve like the deer panting for water? i get it now.

this morning, i sat in the now-familiar room, taking my seat in the spot i've grown accustomed to with the pillow in my lap and the tissue in my hand. she told me i needed to find my anger. hold it. reach it and not be afraid.

there is no monster inside, she told me. you aren't the hulk. buildings won't explode in your anger. 

i thought of the desert, then. the wind whipping my hair and drying my skin, the sun shading my shoulders a hint of pink, the heat mopping up any moisture available.

and i realized what it would take for me to feel truly alive. i need to feel. anything, really. i need to stare those monsters in the face and scream and beat on His chest and cry and ask why and fall into His arms with exhaustion. i need to laugh uncontrollably and allow the tears to fall down my cheeks and i need to grab my aching side and gasp for breath.

i need to get a little crazy...hysterical even.

maybe then, my insides wouldn't feel so dry. maybe then, i'd be able to find the hidden reservoirs i know lay dormant.

almost like the bush i saw while standing against the rocky highway. purple flowers jutting every which way, a sharp contrast to the landscape around it - a firm denial of the dust settling in everything :: my hair, my clothes, my shoes - a piece of Beauty in the midst of chaos.

also, from friday :: katy won the giveaway of Sarah Martin's book! 

Posted on June 12, 2012 .