A Hole in the Ground

So I have recently moved out of my apartment and into my husband’s home. Which is now across the street from my son and daughter in law. I have yet to venture over one early morning with my coffee and sit on my swing. It’s kinda weird.

It wasn’t easy to leave my apartment before our home is ready to move into. Oh yes! We’re buying a home! We close in two weeks! And I’ve already told the kids I am taking my swing! The back porch faces east, too! It’s exciting and frustrating and so glorious. We are blessed.

Returning to what I would call my home town was a hard decision. I fought the idea for weeks. But it was the financially responsible thing to do. And it will only be a few weeks and so, here I am.

The first morning we were here, my husband surprised me by setting up my outdoor bench, table and umbrella on the back deck before I woke for coffee. So sweet! He knows me so well. And loves me so beautifully.

Then the wind came and I have since moved my bench to another, less windy, spot in the backyard. But in this spot where the wind is less, there was a hole in the ground. Not wide, but deep. An old water well something or other. When moving in, he put a larger stone over it so I could see it clearly and avoid twisting my ankle or worse.

After a week and several trips outside in the dark, both early morning and night, some friends came for coffee and I pointed out the hole so noone would injure themselves either. I made an outloud comment of possibly putting a paving stone over it to cover it better and thought nothing more of it.

When I got home from work yesterday, my husband had not only put a paving stone over it, but also some dirt to level it more. To know someone hears you, even when you aren’t seeking to be heard… I am so blessed.

If only it were this easy with everyone. If only we could let our hearts be heard. Because sometimes there’s a hole in the ground and instead of filling in the gap, we throw a stone over it. And even though we see the stone, the danger is still there. The danger of the pain it could, or is causing you, is still real.

But we don’t say anything. We don’t express to them what it is we need, because that would take work. On both parts. So we let it ride. Always looking for the stone. Unsure of our footing.

But when they really care, and the struggle is expressed, they help level it out. The hole may still be there, but the danger ceases to exist. We need those people. We need to BE those people.

So I ask, what’s covering your hole? And who do you need to help you level it out? Are you willing to let your heart be heard?

Because I can promise you, if they really do care… you’ll find level ground again.