Ageing is strange. It just seems to happen when you aren't looking.
As a child I accepted all that my family - and life - threw at me. Not until adulthood did I start questioning just how normal it was? What is normality, I wonder?
My mind fantasises and dreams up the ideal...oh wouldn't it be tremendous if that were 'the 'norm'! I look at the dysfunctional relationships in my life and compare them to this 'norm' I have dreamt up, and feel cheated. When I wake up to the deception, I then start to compare my relationships to my perceptions of the relationships in other people's lives and feel that I have lacked. Never mind that my perceptions are flawed, never seeing what may have happened when my eyes were elsewhere.
Ancient offences, some long forgotten rise up, clamouring for attention. On days, I look for healing in all the wrong places, knowing that The Great Healer is close, watching and waiting, but the path to His heart is elusive.
Perhaps the Healing requires action on my part. Forgiving, letting go and giving. The call to LOVE grows ever louder. Love against all reason, love in the face of offences, love in my 'doings', not merely in words.
I find those who have hurt me, becoming old and frail. So reluctant to accept the help that is obviously needed, until the time comes when there is need and opportunity to help. And in helping, in that very practical action of visiting the frail, helping the helpless, this feeling starts to grow. Just a bud at first, then becoming a blossoming hope that there will be fruit. At last, through no conscious effort the fruit of LOVE emerges. Past offences become irrelevant and every good moment that is left becomes treasured.
There is no normality. We each travel our own path, and are responsible for our own choices. To resent, or to love? It is up to me.
The Elusive Healer is perhaps not as elusive as I thought. He is Love and in loving, His work is done. He dwells there, and when I choose to do the same, healing comes.