I need you and cannot wait to speak in person. I visited the Joshua Tree. I traveled the distance across the ocean and wandered through the land, listening to the wind to guide me. When I arrived, I sat against his trunk as the sun and moon circled through the heavens. They shone down upon us as the days passed, and I felt Joshua's tears behind me. I traveled to see his friend. And then I walked away.
I wandered aimlessly over the hills for days until I came
to a river. It was wide and rocks lined the bank, so I picked up a rock and
skipped it into the flowing water. It bounced once before sinking through the
current. I tried again, hoping this one would go farther, but it did not. Every
rock I skipped fell short of my goal and landed like so many mountains upon my
already heavy heart.
“Maybe if I skip heavier rocks,” I thought to myself.
But heavier rocks only landed harder, sending the water
higher into the sky when they splashed.
“Maybe if I throw rocks.”
I threw rocks into the river one at a time. I picked up
small stones and tossed them as far as I could. I picked up large ones with two
hands, hefting them only to see them land a few feet away. I picked up handfuls and let them rain down on the water, sending drops back into the sky. Nothing changed. The
river flowed over my rocks as if nothing had happened.
No matter how many rocks I threw into the river, the pain
remained. The splashing didn’t make anything better, but only pulled away what
hope I had. Once, I had hoped for healing, but as I stood on the side of the
river, trying to throw my pain away, nothing changed. Perhaps I could make the
river deeper, or swifter, or change its course with all my rocks, but I could
not make it go away. The river continued to flow down from its source and out
into the ocean.
Perhaps I could make my pain deeper, or swifter, or change
its course, but I could not make it go away. It’s there like the river.
Unchanging.
Birch, there’s a question in this letter, and I hope you can
answer it.
Ida B
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