Tagged: anxiety

Remember, My Dear

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Remember, my dear, to unfurrow your brow at least more

than half the time, that for all the liberties we fight for

in this world that we insist ought to be just, we should not

forget the right to refuse the oppressive accusation of anxiety.

 

Let the doggone proverbial other shoe drop wherever it may,

but for heaven’s sake let us not hinder the peace that passes

understanding from descending like a deluge where it will.

 

Remember, my dear, the children so carefree they might as

well be living in another world. Remember how we were

children once, more in touch with our preciousness and yet

never hounded by the compulsion, like a dictator, to retain the

status by our performances and endless, vicious, unspoken

comparisons. Who knows when we will become children again?

 

Remember that vengeance is not ours, and yet still that

those who succeed in injustice will not persist, and those who

persist in it will not succeed. That though we work our

butts off precariously toeing the line between drudgery and

insanity, somewhere beyond the horizon is a home cozier

than even a hobbit’s in the Shire.

 

Somewhere farther than we know (but for all we know,

in a sense closer than our own heartbeats), there is a rest

beneath the rest.

 

Remember, my dear, that at the center of the universe,

no matter how hidden it may be—obscured by our unholy

strivings or numbed by our cherished scars—is a face

acquainted with our troubles, but wearing not a frown

nor a smirk but a smile.

 

 

(March 2016, pace Frederick Buechner, Tim Keller, & Loren Eisely)