IT’S not often I reach out to others for help, but I remember the time I did: It was the day, when I buckled under the weight of carrying too heavy a load, not just that, but being thought of as someone who could carry more. You know what I mean? Mr Strong Guy, or Ms Strong Woman to whom everyone goes to when in trouble, who has strong shoulders for all to lean on, carrying enough tissue for the world’s tears to be wiped away?
And when Mr Strong Guy buckles, no one believes he’s crying for help. “Is it April First?” the friend asks his wife. “Why?” “Bob’s on the phone, and he sounds weird!” “It must be All Fools Day!” I reached out to everything; the books which talked about quietness and peace, leaflets on deep breathing, online courses on meditation, gruesome exercise, even my old friend, the pen, and found them all wanting.
I did not have the heart to ‘phone a friend’, but finally did, “Bob, can I call you back after breakfast?” “Yes!” I said sadly, and am still waiting for him to finish his breakfast. I wondered whether to join a yoga class, and found my friends standing outside the yoga room, their faces forlorn, “Teacher’s in hospital,” they said, “Stress related problems!” I fled.
“Bob, you feeling like a drink?” asked another. I joined him, even thanked him for his offer. We talked into the night. He talked. I listened. Somehow, whenever I tried to interject a word about what I wanted to say, he drowned himself in the next glass which gave more strength to his vocal chords. I left, my glass half full, and walked home; those sips, only making me sink deeper into despair.
“Do you believe in God?” asked a friend the next day. “Yes!” I said. “Why?” “I believe in a God, who created us because he wanted us as company, and then because He is pure and we are not, He found we could not be the company He wanted!” “Most of us believe that!” he said sadly. “But I believe that God above, took away our punishment two thousand Good Friday’s ago, by getting Himself punished on the cross, and because of that He is my constant companion now!”
And then I gasped! “Bob, you silly ole chap!” whispered a God above tenderly to me as I came home and knelt and prayed, “Did it take you talking to someone else about me, to remember I’m there for you?” I chuckled as I reached out to Him, even as He reached out to me..!
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
