Pork and Beans,Chicken Little and Riding the Tide of Emotions

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I’m an emotional person.

It’s how I interpret my world.

But, emotions are not truth.

Expressions of compassion, frustration, joy and sorrow. But, they  are not truth.

Truth is invincible. Unmovable. Straightforward precepts that bind the world together without making a sound.

I actually prefer long, slow melodies that cuts to the heart. Dramatic movie that inspire me to live my dreams.

But, sometimes, I ride so high on emotion I lose my sense of reasoning, my bearings of what is right and what is wrong.

That’s why I have to guard my heart. Keep my compass working so that no matter where the tide of emotions carry me, I can always make my home.

When I was nineteen I rode the tide of emotion so far out to sea, I thought that I could never paddle back to shore.

It happened on a rainy afternoon.

In a car. On my way to a party.

“I’ve got a great idea for our wedding,” I told to my fiance as I snuggled closer to him and watched the rain drops slide down the windshield.

“I want out,” he responded.

“Out of what?” I squealed with the deep insight of a nineteen year old, “The car? While you’re driving? That’s dangerous.”

“I’m talking about you and me,” He said, “I don’t want to marry you.”

Out of nowhere, the Chicken Little’s admonition came to mind.

She was right, I thought as I fought to understand what had just happened. The sky could fall when you least expected it. It just crashed through the roof of the car and smashed my girlhood dreams.

I cried. For months.

I walked around in a daze. I stopped eating. Stopped studying for classes. I lost my job.

Lonely. Unlovable. Terrified that God had forgotten me.

That was how I felt.

But, that was not the truth.

Six months later, I walked into my sister’s apartment. She heated up a can of pork and beans and offered me a bite.

The flavor of the sauce exploded in my mouth. I ate more that night than I had in days.  For the first time, I noticed the rich colors of dish towels in the kitchen. I heard the music swelling from my sister’s stereo.

I was back.

While I had been gone, truth had not changed.

Sure, I was not engaged. I was not doing well in school. I was broke. But, I was not alone.

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