Today has been a melancholy day.
I sort of woke up that way.
I may have gone to sleep with those feelings last night, but tiredness reigned and the morning dawned with a sadness in my soul, even as I swept the cobwebs from my sleepy brain.
For the momma who may lose custody of all five of her children due to extended incarceration.
For those young hearts and minds who WILL find a forever home, but at a deeply emotional cost.
For the boy whose past has been a whirlwind and finds himself in trouble...AGAIN...today at school.
For my own body, aching intensely for the third morning in a row.
For the vulnerability that my heart feels when my physical weaknesses are exposed to new ears and I wonder, "Do they really understand?"
For the feelings of trepidation that making new friends and wondering if I can really be myself brings.
For the future of my granny, her care, and how that affects my mom, my whole family.
For a hundred things that my mind and my heart and my soul cannot grasp and contain.
I know that tears are just brimming below the surface and they are felt more deeply than words can truly capture. Although I have shared reasons and potential whys, the deep that cries out to deep senses that I have only scratched the surface of this gloomy reverie.
So here I sit, in my favorite cafe, writing out my heart....squeezed in the minutes between going here and there to purge the recesses of my soul believing for resolution, absolution, or maybe just peace in the convolution.
Maybe the brokenness in my own soul is making me more aware and alive and in tune to the cries of the downtrodden.
Maybe the weakness in me today is necessary to move forward in this haphazardly beautiful journey like Much-Afraid in her pilgrimage of "becoming."
Maybe my heart's tenderness is causing me to smell deep as I walk out my door and pause to remember, "Spring is coming...it's almost here...don't give up....wait a little longer."
Hope is here.
Hope is alive.
Hope will come again.