“I feel like I’m going into a dark hole,” I said.
“It’s a tunnel. Walk through it and you’ll get to the other side,” said Betty, a friend who was about my mom’s age.
I’d call her anytime I felt gloomy since dismal moods overwhelmed me. I’m usually laughing and high-spirited, so when life looked dark, I got scared. Really scared.
Her analogy calmed me down since a tunnel seemed comforting compared to a dark hole.
When I panicked, Betty told me the same thing again and again. She assured me things would look brighter and I’d feel better.
She was right.
Even when the walk was long, the light at the end of the tunnel showed itself eventually.
Talking with friends recently, I told them about Betty.
“She would always remind me it’s a tunnel, not a hole. But since Dad died and Betty is gone, the last couple of years have seemed quite ‘holey,’” I said.
I stopped short when I heard myself. In retrospect, the past two years have been quite holy.
Difficult circumstances sometimes bring about the holiest times. Have you experienced that also?
WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Tunnel experiences, especially ones as life-changing as death, are sacred. Like C.S. Lewis’ character in “Shadowlands” (the movie about his life) said, “The pain now is part of the happiness then. That’s the deal.”
On the side: At Dad’s funeral, my sister-in-law sang We Are Standing On Holy Ground.