Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "Make Hay While the Sun Shines" (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (03/06/08)
TITLE: Hole to Whole
By Debbie Wistrom
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At twenty-two and still a new bride, I was alone. Sure, there was a husband but he wasn’t able to see the hole. There would be no saving those proverbial nine stitches. You have to be able to see the hole in order to fill it, right? The marriage was over. Being on my own was tough but fun. I discovered independence. The birds in the bush were more exciting and promising than the one I had married. I attempted to fill the hole with the high life.
In the big city, small town girl thought she could run with the big dogs. Here is where hindsight comes in handy, regrettably too late. I should have known that this time should be should be spent crawling, discovering who this toddler really was. I lacked the tools, so the hole remained vacant.
No, I had to learn the hard way that all the glitters is not, well, you know, you can’t tell a young person anything. They get an idea in their head and there is no shaking it. Next, what appeared as white knight was a master manipulator who saw me as a pawn. Watch your step the hole just got deeper.
I became a poster child for not paying attention to the company one keeps. My new friends opened my eyes to the world. Words that once made me cringe now rolled off my tongue with the skill of a sailor. At this point, I was glad my parents weren’t around to witness my demise. It was fun carousing and carrying on. By all rights, I should be dead many times over from varied circumstances but I was having a ball. Did someone say something about a hole?
In the middle of all that, another marriage occurred. As a weak attempt to fill the hole, I chose another spouse that could not fill the cavernous hole. Maybe if we fill it with enough alcohol we can be happy. Alcohol was there at the beginning, in the middle and certainly at the end and there was no reason to cry over spilt brandy milk punch. Divorce number two came and went as easily as the first. Now I had a mud hole.
Each time I chose an undesirable companion, it was as if I were cutting off my nose in spite. This one will be better than the last and so on. I allowed all sorts of influences into my life that make me shudder to this day. What was I telling the world “bring it on, I can take it, live and let live?” Was I trying to hurt myself so the emptiness would have company?
I will never understand why I wasn’t able to see past actions into the real lives of those I surrounded myself with. Those were scary times, in reflection; I should have seen the loudness of their actions instead of letting words impress me.
Those sixteen years passed quickly. The clouds of my past roll across the horizon and silver lined versions gradually replace them. My parents returned eight years ago and life is good. I am a daughter again. I have more accountability now. We take full advantage of our time together. There are holidays to plan, meals to prepare. Quilts classes to attend and travels to undertake. While it is unspoken, we have agreed to make up for lost time, to make the most of what we have now. Like finding the newest coffee shop, we keep busy trying to pack it all in. We know that our time is not our own.
This latest season in my life is full. I found a new husband who gets an occasional glimpse at my emptiness and throws in a shovelful of love. In addition to love, this marriage has also brought about a deep struggle within me. While the self-destructive actions of my youth are thankfully gone, depression took its place. During this time, Jesus overcame. I would say He finally found me, but my friend Hindsight reminds me that Jesus was there all along. His shovelfuls of love are now filling my whole.
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