I haven’t written in such a long, long time. A lot of life came and
went in those long but oh, so brief months. It’s a happy thing to be back with
this web thing and a lot of words to say to you.
This spot of mine…it feels like thorny ground today.
These days have been a lot of growing. That’s code for hard. It’s also
code for glorious, beautiful, faithful, miracle filled, digging deep, and oh,
so marvelous.
A couple days ago I was sitting on a rod iron bench with a million feelings
pounding my insides, so I grabbed a piece of paper and tried to explain how my
soul could be so confident in this faith, while my so very human thoughts were
anything but. I don’t know if you understand what I mean, but here’s what
spilled out.
Oh, dear heart.
How you hurt and twist and
complicate and feel and love and mend and break. How you demand answers in a
place where I have no words. How you ask of me what I've yet to know. How
confused you become with my heavy mind. Yet, oh, how at peace you are when told
by my soul to cling to the light.
This inner light pours and seeps into all the fibers of my humanity
that were else wise useless, cold, and empty. It begins a war that demands my
very being to willingly walk through fire in an effort to hope. It stirs
feelings and shakes loose all reason and ease to find more meaning. To find a
thing, to make it whole, a thing like faith.
How hard and yet how easy to love a thing like this light. One that pushes
me until completely broken and then yet again breaks those pieces to ask of
myself is this truly real. It places shards for my bleeding feet to walk on; it
pulls on my already hurting strings of me, and then pulls again.
Yet, it is impossible for my heart to believe that this light is not
Love.
My head and reason may scream and pound against the bones of my tired
shell, but never will my heart give in, never will my heart not know the truth
of this light. It speaks to my soul and my soul answers with a reflection, a
tiny glimmer that won’t let go of where it came from.
It knows.
It more than knows, it believes, it understands what my head cannot,
that this breaking comes from the leaving of a temporary thing, of a body with
feelings that are directed by a selfish and unknowing human. This breaking is
the making of a devastated heart’s story that finds my soul. A soul that is not
swayed, broken, or defeated, but consumed and wrapped by this light. A soul
that learns to shine for all its worth.
Yes, my mind my fail me. But my heart.
My heart, it knows this light is Love.
