212. It is part of the cure to want to be cured. ~Seneca

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To feel keenly the poetry of a morning’s roses,
one has to just have escaped from the claws
of this vulture which we call sickness of body or heart.
~Adapted excerpt from Henri Frederic Amiel

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In order to mend and bridge chasms of painful, isolating realities, I often douse the fires of what breaks my heart in cups of tea or tears that flow during quiet dawns or at night when the wee hours find me awake and alone.  After the sipping or crying comes to an end, a numbed stillness often develops.  When it does, I become aware in its clarity of the amazing nearness of God.  Jesus, whom I’ve been calling, is offering to guide me through portals to places where pools of mercy await.  Sometimes the healing waters lie deep within my own being where the Holy Spirit resides in His cloistered sanctuary.  At other times they are found in the beautiful colors of autumn, or in the glistening dew on greening grass and flowers in springtime, or in the gentle gestures of another’s compassion, or in softly spoken prayers proffered by kind and endearing voices.  Wherever the pool and whoever the beneficial bearer of blessing, one or both sustain me, if I yield, in the returning rhythm of fitness as the Lord’s grace works to render me wholly well.

I’ve discovered that tears have amazing restorative powers for frequently it is when my eyes are blurred with wetness from them that a sense of God’s presence is strongest.  For surely in the loss of His own son by the hands of creatures He breathed life into, He shed more tears than we’ll ever know.  We all endure difficult and sorrowful moments in our lives.  So excruciating is the pain on occasion that it nearly stifles our very breath, but one breath and one step at a time begins the journey out of the depths of despair.

“But I will restore your health and heal your wounds,” declares the Lord…  ~Jeremiah 30:17a  ✝

**Whittard’s is a tea, coffee, and cocoa shop that we found in London last summer.

13 thoughts on “212. It is part of the cure to want to be cured. ~Seneca”

    • Why that is very sweet, Andy! Now you know, I are here right where I are supposed to be. How’s that for a little slaughtering of the English language? Hope all is well with you and yours, Mr. Oldham. Blessings, Natalie 🙂

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      • Oh that was a deliberate slaughtering just for the fun of it. When I was late opening my door at school, the kids would always say as I rounded the corner, “There you are.” And I’d always respond with “Yes, here I are.” They pause a minute and then chuckle when they realized I made the mistake on purpose.
        Natalie 🙂

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  3. Beautiful reflection (leaves me a bit worried about you–is all ok?) but yet comforted by the fact that there is always hope in the tears of sorrow—The sun popped out this afternoon—joy of joys!! but it’s to disappear again this weekend–it’s 26 degrees and we are set for a roller coaster of temperatures -Up 10 degrees one day, down 10 the next—for the next 10 days—whacky weather to say the least 🙂
    Grace, love, hugs…..julie

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    • That’s sweet of you to be concerned, Cookie. I’m okay. It’s just that life gets bigger than I like at times, and the aches and pains of an aging body cause anguish and some sleepless nights. But this too shall pass! Blessings, Natalie 🙂

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