Heel

Something, some unidentifiable something, is pushing its way through my veins, pulsing throughout my entire body. I am at a loss to describe it or define it, let alone name it. Whatever it is it causes me to sigh deep, uneasy sighs. Not tired sighs but I’m-tired-of-this sighs. I roll out of bed to play basketball each morning, and it seems like this is the only thing I know how to do well, yet I’m still dragging my sleepy eyes to the edge of the bed no matter how many hours I sleep.

I stand up. Damn, even this hurts. Not in the same way the “unidentifiable something” hurts but in the way a tack jammed in your heel hurts. And so begins a day where the discomfort is lodged in my foot, tracking it’s way up to my heart like it’s summiting some angsty peak. I am designed for something else, something more (which might actually be something less). What am I doing with my life?

I keep asking myself, what makes me come alive? Why is my heart breaking for the poor around me but I am not moving? Why do I cringe as bombs drop on Aleppo but go back to scrolling Instagram? Why do I feel strangely warm when I imagine teaching people to rest and pray and meditate? Why are my fists clenched in my lap whenever I hear words alluding to the pursuit of power, money, and nicer shit?

What is this judgemental rage locked in my chest? Is this what starts in my foot each morning? Has something grabbed me by the heel like Jacob grabbed Esau on his way out of the womb? Has something grabbed me by the heel and this pointed, sharp, pulsing pain is a deception (because Jacob means “deceiver”)? If I am Esau, what is the blessing I’m doomed to lose? 

Perhaps like Esau, I’m shouting “I’m dying of starvation!” when in fact this soul inflicting starvation is supposed to be teaching me something rather than existing as something to be urgently satisfied, like Esau desired.

Or maybe, speaking of Jacob the heel grabber, I know that I am wrestling… slowly, quietly, patiently, painfully (who wrestles like this?!) with God.

Tell me, God, what are You withholding? What am I withholding?

I’m starving, but I will wait.