I cling to two words: believe and love.
There are days – stretches of hours – where hanging on them is all I can do. Sometimes I hang from them, because, honestly, I have let go, but something unseen has caught, and holds me up, feet kicking in air, too far from solid ground. But this is a good thing.
In these times, the whole of all the study, all the revelation, all the epiphany of these eight years of Spiritual Transformation is broken and sifted down to these oh-so-hard-to-hold … rewards. Yes, yes, that is what they are – rewards, because they do not come from me. Not at all. And they are things to keep living for.
I have not always had them. I simply did not know them. I believed, in the way I knew the sun would rise each day: I saw it. Its warmth touched me. But I was never…
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