i couldn’t sleep last thursday night. since the accident, that’s nothing new. but truly. grey’s anatomy left me breathless. full of heartache. and questions. i’m going to reflect primarily from the middle part of the show in which denny is finally able to really connect with meredith. through this interaction, meredith reveals the painful truth that the “dark and twisty side” of her took over in the water.
denny: what happened in that water?
meredith: i swam, i fought.
denny: no you didn’t meredith, and you can’t stay here.
meredith: i don’t want to…
denny: yeah…ya do. its easier. but you can’t. because george’s dad died. because izzy lost me. and cristina…when she was 9 she was in a car accident with her father, and he bled out right in front of her while they waited for an ambulance to arrive and alex…
denny: they are barely breathing. this will break them. none of them deserve that. this is the big one. so you pay attention. do you know what kind of miracle it is that derek is who he is? do you know how rare it is that someone like him even exists? he’s still an optimist, he still believes in true love and magic and soulmates. he’s waiting for you and if you dont come back from this you will change who he is.
meredith: oh god…i was swimming, i was fighting… and then i thought just for a second i thought what’s the point, and i let go i stopped fighting… don’t tell anybody…
denny’s talking spirituality here. he’s connecting to meredith’s all-consuming search for meaning. this is deep stuff. where are our personal breaking points? i think as jesus-y kind of people, we have the tendency of becoming quite “if-we-are-handed-it-we-can-handle-it.” and i know, god takes our burdens and makes them bearable–a million christianese cliches come to mind. i know that god is a god of suffering, we cannot escape it by our faith. but. when i’m honest, when i look at my own story…i know my breaking points. the areas in my life that if lost, i believe i could lose my faith. wow. is that even okay to talk about?
let me start with my redemption story. i have survived a few things, that if you knew me we could talk about openly. i must work to remember my dignity, reminding myself that i am resilient & delightful. those thoughts–they aren’t the first thoughts that come to mind when faced with a challenge or self-doubt.
i am a little person. i know what it’s like to be stared or gawked at. i know what prejudice looks and feels like.
i long to be a mother. thankfully, strong, wise women have stood in the gap and mothered me in ways. i long to mother children. my own fertility has long been a sign of hope–that God isn’t done writing my story. that i have a hope and a future.
i believe if i lost my fertility it might break me. because it is linked to my story of redemption. it is what i have held onto to maintain hope – to say “yes god, you are still here”. my own family of origin pain points to my fierce commitment to my future family.
as much as i long to be a wife and mother, i long to be a speaker and an actress. these areas hit at the core of who i am. i ache to imagine life without these dreams, as it feels as a part of who i am would surely die.
do i surrender those to god as an act of “giving up”? what if simplicity and minimalism just isn’t in our nature. is it safe to dream? can i trust God with my dreams? can i maintain my faith if they die? is God the author of dreams or the ever-realist of my own inadequacies. i fear surrendering these things to god for fear that losing them could indeed break me. i am a trauma survivor. it’s not that i don’t think i could handle some suffering. but this, god?
maybe it’s because of my birth story. or maybe it’s in spite of it. i was not born into a world that immediately welcomed me, called me lovely and cherished me. that struggle still lingers.
i fought. i begged. i yearned. i prayed.
my being here today is representative of my commitment to life, a better life. but is it safe to now dream of a beautiful end to my story, the ultimate rescue story–some magic this side of heaven?
okay, back to grey’s anatomy. derek was meredith’s “knight-in-shining-whatever”. she let him in. he advocated for her dignity. she did the same for him. a beautiful portrait of relationships.
a beautiful exchange during this past episode occurred between derek and meredith’s mother ellis.
derek: you broke her. you called her ordinary. you told her time and time again that nothing she does is ever good enough. every good thing meredith is happened despite you. she may not survive this. that is on you. that is on you.
i’m not advocating bitterness and unforgiveness, i’m advocating justice. there has to be some justice here, this side of heaven. there has to be people who see our pain and fight for our dignity, even when we’re about to give up. there has to be someone who sees.
“el roi” is hebrew for “the God who sees me”. what hagar called god when he saw her affliction. el roi, I pray you really do see me and that you know what might break me.