There are days when the very holding on is an enormous thing.
My calloused hands ache in the places once worn thin and I spin and flap and kick at the end of a rope that is slowly unraveling, one rugged strand at a time.
And to... just...let...go...
seems like the right and proper thing to do.
But then there is that matter of earth and gravity and suddenly
the issue is no longer about a frayed rope but a threadbare heart
and what I really want is for the ground to rise up and meet my feet.
Because to stand with limbs shaking is so much better than to fall into numbing nothingness.
And I know this because you are my promontory, come to save.
And when my feet find the rock of you, I am upheld.
When your words animate my soul and embolden my heart ...
When my bones are strengthened by the comfort of your whisper ...
When you meet me in the sharp places and choose to place peace between us ...
When you call out the story that is woven into my heart and I feel a quickening down deep that says "this is what you ought to be" ...
When your presence burns Light into the corners corroded by darkness ...
It is then, in ways new and unwarranted, that love and peace reign.
"Dear brothers and sisters,
I close my letter with these last words:
Grow to maturity.
Encourage each other.
Live in harmony and peace.
Then the God of love and peace will be with you."
-2 Corinthians 13:11 NLT
Linking up with Emily for Imperfect Prose on the prompt: Encourage.