I pause before I answer the questions. A pause both because I am annoyed by my own answer, but also because I need the words I am about to say to not only be heard but felt.
I'm finding it in Him.
She looks back at me with the expected annoyance that is also dusted with a bit of I want that too.
It's hard to explain. I fought religion and therefore my faith for so long. There is not much like being the unlucky girl who spends a year of her life in a body cast who grows up to be a mental health therapist who hears terrible and sick things in her office every day who can't have babies to make you pretty pissed off at God.
She nods her head back with the knowing of someone who has also survived great struggle and loss.
But we've all had struggle and loss haven't we?
She quickly replies from the familiar place of uncertain, desperate impatience,
But how? What do I do?
Treading with the caution of walking on thin ice I reply,
Maybe it isn't about doing at all? For me, it has been just the opposite, which is even more annoying since I am a major doer. But, I've had to surrender.
She now replies with an even greater annoyance that I have come to expect,
But how do I surrender?
And again, with authentic love in my voice I shine His light down the dark scary path,
I know right? I had to come to the end of myself. Realizing I can't do any of it all alone, and that I don't have to. I gave myself permission to be completely undone by His grace, by what He has done for me. Allowing myself to fall into His grace and trust He has the end of my story.
*Penned Musings are posts based off of my daily writing prompts. You can read more here.