To my child,
I know. It hurts, this struggle you’re going through. I can feel your pain. You’re frightened and angry. You’re trying to hide the agony from all those around you but, you can’t hide it from yourself…or me. Your heart feels as if it’s being cinched with steel closing in tighter and tighter. You can’t breathe and you can’t rest. Your mind is clouded with anxiety and apprehension. You can’t sleep. You can’t eat. You can’t think. It’s like climbing a mountain in the dark. You feel pushed; herded up the steeper and steeper elevation, chased by a leviathan with gnashing teeth and sharpest claws. Over and over you slip and fall and lose ground. All the while the monster in the shadows is getting closer and closer, growling and howling, hungry for you.
It hurts to be so afraid, so unsure of what to do or where to turn. I know. Yet, I’m asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to keep climbing, keep striving to reach the highest point. I’m asking you to believe that when you reach the summit, when you reach the top of that mountain you’re on…everything else will fall away. That snarling beast of anxiety and stress, the fear you’re living with, the anger and frustration; it will all go away.
I know it’s hard for you to believe me. You’ve been calling on me to make it all stop…and you think I’m ignoring you because it doesn’t. We both know that with a wave of my hand I could make it all disappear. I could pick you from where you are and plant you again above it all and you’d feel safe. Yet, there you are, still clinging to mountain side, hanging on with torn and bleeding fingers, desperate not to fall…and still you call. And still, I don’t answer.
I can’t. I won’t.
I need you to feel every moment of pain. I need you to grieve, to cry, to rage against the storm. I need you to feel the anger and frustration…humiliation…not because I want you to suffer. Never. I love you and it pains me to see you hurting. Still…I need you to make the climb up the mountain—to work for it, to sweat for it, to bleed for it—so that when you reach the apex, when you’re standing on the top of your own personal mountain you’ll understand the reason for the climb.
When you’re finally at the top, looking out through the clouds, into the future; when your heart is pounding with exertion and excitement; when your stomach fills with butterflies and your mind opens to possibilities and your soul…the very core of you…fills with joy…you’ll know. You’ll know why the climb—despite the pain—was worth it. When your view from your mountaintop fills you with hope, you’ll know why I couldn’t take away the pain.
Right now, it hurts. I know. But, I also know what I have in store for you—what comes next. You can’t see it yet, from your place on the dark side of the mountain. But, it’s there, my gift for you. I’m there, too. I’m waiting for you at the top of the mountain and I have so much to show you. Keep climbing…keep pushing…keep believing in me, like I believe in you. You’re going to make it and when you do…I’m going to pull you into my arms and I’m going to whisper in your ear, “Well done my child. Well done.”
Hang on loved one. I’m waiting for you.
~Your Loving Father
©Copyright Angela Beck Kalnins