Winter. She seeps into every bone of our body. She takes away our breath.
I sit cross-legged. Socks pulled up high. Boots on inside to keep the chill away from my bones. The struggling fire crackles next to me. Begging for attention. I poke at it every so often. Moving logs so they can breathe better and feed the fire.
I remember watching my father light a fire hundreds of times. Open the flue. Stack the kindling. Add the logs. There was a method. A deliberateness. He would roll the newspaper into the perfect cone shape…strike the match and let the eager flame lick up the dry paper. Then, before it was completely engulfed, he would gently warm the flue. The fire would be racing towards his fingers, but with a graceful flip of the hand land on top of the warming logs. He was a magic fire maker in my eyes. The logs would come to life, glowing, snapping. Sometimes I even got to strike the match. It was like being invited into some sacred ceremony. I could feel the importance. I often struggled with a match. My fingers not quite as adept as they are now. Nervous. And those tall matches. They were not easy to hold in my tiny hands. But he was patient with me. I loved those moments.
It’s how I cover myself. Pretending to be warm and whole and content.
It’s in our brokenness we can then in turn let our light shine out. Through the cracks. Through them.
I look at those beautiful eyes of yours. At your beautiful children. At your beautiful creations. I see you WHOLE. I am sorry that you see yourself broken. I know that there is nothing I can say or do to change your self perception. Faith is not enough if you are feeling so low, because you were made whole.
I have been in the place where you are. It is dark. Damp. Like a labyrinth. It makes one feel lost. Straighten the path in your mind and you shall find your way out.
Much love.
thank you friend. xo
Beautifully written…..thank you for being authentic with us.
thank you for reading <3
I’m broken too. Maybe for different reasons but maybe for the same. May we both find light this year.
I’ll hold your hand. Maybe we can find our way together. much love friend.