My posts may seem a bit unhappy for a while. Yesterday I went through a breakup. I'll spare you the details, but I don't hold a grudge against him. We both still like each other. I like him a lot, but life goes on. It doesn't help to dwell on the past. It hurts; I know it will for a long time. Everything happens for a reason. The world doesn't stop spinning because of how I feel, so let's skip the pity party.
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Something positive comes of everything, I suppose. It might be hard to see at first, but it's always there. When I'm upset, I tend to write better. I added a lot to my story yesterday, and today I wrote a thing that kind of relates to the Footprints in the Sand story. Yes, I am a Christian.This also made me rely on my faith more than usual. See there? That's two positive things.
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Guess what? You just met an optimist.
The Beach in my Soul
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Have you ever been to the beach? Not just any beach. I have, long ago. It's distant: a memory from my childhood. Remember the story of footprints in the sand? It is very much like that beach. It may even be the very same beach.
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In my dreams, I walked along the beach. The warm sand gave way beneath my feat and squished beneath my toes. The golden grains kissed my skin like tiny droplets of sunlight as I picked up a handful and let the sand slide through my fingers. I walked to the edge of the sea and let the waves wash over my feet. The wet sand wrapped itself around my toes; it begged me to stay. A small crab crawled nearby, shaking his claw at me. He looked like a little old man, yelling at a child to get off his lawn.
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My footprints had marred the beautiful perfection of the beach. That was when I noticed his footprints, parallel to my own. They were light and intricately detailed. No imperfections weighed down on them. However, there was a small red spot in the center of each print where he had bled. I knelt down to touch a print, and found that the bloodied sand had turned to rubies.
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I looked up and there he was, standing next to me. He reached out a hand, and I instantly trusted him. I took his hand and he let me into the sea. He baptized me there, in the sea by that beautiful beach, and I knew I was safe.
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It has been far too long since I visited that beach in my soul. He was with me always, guiding me, but I grew and didn't always listen.
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I dearly missed the peace I felt on the beach that day.
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Today, I revisit that sacred beach. I let the sand kiss my skin like little drops of sun. I let the sea wash over my feet while the wet sand hugs my toes and the crab shakes his claw.
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Today, I sit down in the ocean and wait for him. I pick up that little angry crab and rub his shell. I wonder what troubles him so. The crab looks up at me with his sad old eyes, and I can feel his pain.
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There is a hand on my shoulder. He kneels down next to me. The peace washes over me with the ocean, and the crab crawls away,no longer shaking his fist. I fall into his arms in a hug. I'm sorry that I didn't come sooner.
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He doesn't fix my broken heart. He doesn't erase the pain, nor does he heal my wounds. But he is there, and that is enough. He gives me peace. He makes my pain bearable. He loves me, even though I haven't given him the love he deserves all these years. He doesn't hold a grudge. I know he's forgiven me. I know I didn't deserve it.
Long Story,
Shansie
Hey, it looks as though you found something meaningful. Congratulations. Not everyone does.
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