Just about shoulder deep in the muck now. I am a full head higher than I was about two months ago – blinking my eyes against the clumps and chunks of debris situated around my head. I could barely move my head left to right because of the heaviness of the muck. I trudged along, gained footing with the help of friends. I tugged the life lines from every kind word, beckoned friends and family for help, and help and more help. I continued to look up at the skies, emotionally ravaged, but still feeling some warmth on the parts of me struggling to be free
Once my eyes and mouth and nose were cleansed of the heaviness, I noticed the skies were clearer too, the trees more beautiful than I’d ever known them to be, the stars twinkling to the rhythm of life, and me, and my kids, and my dogs in the bed, cuddled up beneath the blankets, giggling in the moment, every moment to touch, and breathe, and love each other. And I noticed what I hadn’t noticed then. I noticed that picking myself off the floor and crawling onto that bed put me on higher ground.
I now feel His hand upon my shoulder, soft and warm and guiding, guiding my vision toward Him, allowing me to follow the path He has made for me, feeling His hand turn my head back around when I try to catch a glimpse of another path, the other path I’d been on. The gentle nudging against my strong will to backtrack.
And the ground is harder now, my feet finding purchase more easily, moving like a cat now, lifting my feet, stepping, and breaking the habit of shuffling feet. Moving toward firmer ground. The mountain on the horizon getting smaller with every step.
What a day it will be when I am at the top, shaking the mud from my ankles.
Once my eyes and mouth and nose were cleansed of the heaviness, I noticed the skies were clearer too, the trees more beautiful than I’d ever known them to be, the stars twinkling to the rhythm of life, and me, and my kids, and my dogs in the bed, cuddled up beneath the blankets, giggling in the moment, every moment to touch, and breathe, and love each other. And I noticed what I hadn’t noticed then. I noticed that picking myself off the floor and crawling onto that bed put me on higher ground.
I now feel His hand upon my shoulder, soft and warm and guiding, guiding my vision toward Him, allowing me to follow the path He has made for me, feeling His hand turn my head back around when I try to catch a glimpse of another path, the other path I’d been on. The gentle nudging against my strong will to backtrack.
And the ground is harder now, my feet finding purchase more easily, moving like a cat now, lifting my feet, stepping, and breaking the habit of shuffling feet. Moving toward firmer ground. The mountain on the horizon getting smaller with every step.
What a day it will be when I am at the top, shaking the mud from my ankles.
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