It creeps in seemingly slowly, until suddenly without warning the shoreline vanishes and water surrounds your previously dry beach chair. Scrambling, snatching belongings you move further up the beach to dry sand, cautious now of the pace of the tide that is ready to inch stealthily toward you.
It creeps in if only to touch your feet, the cold moving through your body, shocking your system. Your previous state of peace now interrupted by an unwelcome force. Escape is short-lived. High tide is in full swing with each crash of its rolling waves the ocean speaks incessantly, rhythmically. As it rolls in forcefully....NOT. . .and crashes. . .ENOUGH... faster and faster not enough, not enough, not enough, notenough notenough notenough notenoughnotenoughnotenoughnotenoughnotenough.
Drowning, gasping, pleading but the waves flood your justification of worth before the words can even form. You're not enough. Not pretty enough, not talented enough, not nice enough, not tough enough, not smart enough.
Wide awake, paralyzed by the waves of negativity, swimming against it is in vain. Another whooosh! NOT ENOUGH sucks you under and in its grip you hate yourself for having been fooled into believing you were in any way adequate. You're not even adequate. I'm not even adequate.
All at once, the tide recedes. Cold, stripped, shaken-you're left on a deserted beach. The sand no longer soft, no longer warm. Every ounce of worth, diminished. Hours pass in the dark. Just lie there, it whispers. Don't get up. They'll be disappointed that you don't have it all together. They'll hate you for it.
Here lies she.
Hurt boiling up at the surface.
Here lies her make-up.
Here lies her pain.
It's easier to lie there. To slowly fade, shivering.
Here she lies and no one will come looking.
As the sun comes up, pours in through the cracks in the blinds, I kick the blankets off of me. Disheveled hair, dark circles under my eyes tell a silent tale of a restless night of struggle. I can still smell the ocean, I can feel it in my bones. A dull pain, gliding up toward the left side of my chest threatens to take over.
Deep breath. Get up. Start a new day.
I called to Adonai in my distress,
and He answered me.
Rescue me, Adonai, from lips that tell lies,
from a tongue full of deceit.
What has He in store for you, deceitful tongue?
What more will he do to you?
A warrior's sharp arrows,
with red-hot coals from the broom tree.
. . .I have had to live far too long
with those who hate peace.
I am all for peace;
but when I speak, they are for war.
Adonai will guard you against all harm;
he will guard your life.
Adonai will guard your coming and going
from now on and forever.