A whisper becomes a word, the word gains energy, causes curiosity, starts an energy, then energy gains momentum, the momentum picks up speed; a raindrop, to a puddle, to a stream, a river, an ocean.
Peace felt in the heart, becomes peace felt in the limbs, becomes surrogate legs to walk with. Peace that starts in the far corner of the soul, bleeds over into our consciousness, if only as a mist at first, but is enough to color the eyes. A wound is allowed to breathe, might seems like a small feat, but in the oxygen it begins to flower, and it's discovered that through the very place we tried to hide, mystery and light makes itself known to us. A little fear gets uncovered, a little freedom gained for the soul, and seeps into our conversations and strivings.
Let the small victories pour forth. For it is in this way the battle is won. Our day to day fighting, fighting against the restrictive, constrictive, habitual, critical voices. May seem irrelevant, may want to give up. But landscape cleared, can be a place for grace to rest, and grace that rests is grace taking affect. Every step you take is a step, don't run from them, let them sink in.
You matter. Every one of your victories is a victory. Live in the wisdom of accepted tenderness.
No comments:
Post a Comment