Heartache

As I was getting dressed the other morning a design for a pair of earrings floated into my conscious brain, fully formed. When I was finished making them, I knew immediately what to name them, Heartache. I don't know where this came from because, on that day, I wasn't experiencing any particular emotional pain. But I remember so well what it feels like. There is always plenty of secondhand heartache to be felt for those around me who are suffering, as I seem to have an over-developed sense of empathy for other people's sadness. My heart can feel heavy just listening to the evening news, to say nothing of how I react to the pain that those I love are dealing with. But it's a different level of heartache when it's your very own.

I have not forgotten nor am I finished experiencing what firsthand heartache feels like: that pinprick of pain when the hurt first strikes (the single red crystal), that burdensome weight in my chest that never seems to lighten (the dark patina on the silver), the lethargy, the sense that I can't inhale enough oxygen when I breathe (the white pearls). I know it all so well.

On that day, however, I was reminded how wonderful the absence of heartache feels. I was having to remember what it felt like rather than being able to reach in and access it at that very moment. I learn so much during the difficult times of my life, though, which doesn't exactly give me something to look forward to, but it gives heartache a real purpose in my life. It's also when I allow God a chance to fully be my God. That can't be a Bad Thing.