Waiting for the sun

A couple of weeks ago, I found a little hand-cranked music box at a bookstore that plays the Beatles’ classic, “Here Comes the Sun.”

music-box

It fits in the palm of my hand, and I carried it around the whole store with me turning the crank and listening to the tinkling little song and thinking “I have to have this,” so I bought it. Because sometimes—literally and figuratively—the sun disappears from our sight and if it’s gone too long, we lose faith that it will ever come back again. This song helps to remind me that it always does. No storm, no night, no low-pressure system lasts forever. And even when the sky is full of clouds, the sun is still there, just waiting to show its face again. It always comes back.

This song came to mind when I found this image on Facebook the other day.

broken-window

Like everyone, I have my less-attractive facets, shall we say, that I try to keep out of sight so that other people will not be hurt or upset by them. Anger, for instance, although of course there are others. Not everyone in my life wants to know the whole me. Most people want to see only the me that is confident, capable and calm, the one who says and does the right thing and never loses her cool. The one who doesn’t need anybody to do anything for her because she’s got it covered.

Yeah, I wish I could be that person all the time, too. You have no idea how much.

But there are days when it feels as if my windows are broken and my rooms are empty, and I long for the sun to return and bring some heat and light to those cold, dark places. It’s been gone rather too long from some of those rooms, but it will come back again. Nothing lasts forever.

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