When I look outside, I see that the world is finally in tune to my heart. The pounding of ice hitting a undeserved asphalt floor, the cold and unfeeling wind biting those who face it, the rain struggling to regain its upper hand in the fight for precipitation makes me feel at peace. Finally the sky understands the angry denial and storm that reaches down to my very bones.
Why would I choose hail?
It represents me.
The hailstorm of anger and arrogance parades in my soul.
My mind is that pounding ice, telling me that I'm not good enough.
My heart is that stinging wind, howling at those who have hurt me.
But my soul is that rain, fighting to regain ground. My soul softly comes around after the outbreak of the ice and wind. My soul reminds me that I am enough for the world around me.
And just as the sun breaks as the rain softly falls and the hail abates, so does the love that I cannot see. It permeates my center, spreading until all is silent except His words: I love you, my child. Come home.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Hail
Posted by trendywendy21 at 12:52 PM
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3 comments:
Wow. Good blog post. Deep. I hope you keep hearing His voice and it becomes the loudest!
When I look outside, I see a warm summer afternoon. The sun beats down from a blue sky, and birds flutter all around. But then I notice the trees.
This time of year, they're all turning lovely yellow and red and orange hues, clueing me in to the fact that I'm staring out of my window from my domestic warmth not at a warm summer day, but a bitterly cold city on the verge of frost. Deceptive.
Where I come from, we don't have autumn. Palms and pines don't change color when October rolls around, and if the temperature ever drops below 70, people start layering up.
I guess it just goes to show you that when life takes you somewhere you haven't been before, you can't always rely on the telltale signs and lessons you've picked up elsewhere along the way. Maybe I need to stare out this window a little longer until I learn something else.
Oh wait- what's that? The sun's starting to droop closer to the horizon, spreading its light through the familiar man-made haze of urban smog that separates it and paints it into a green and purple sunset. This kind of majesty outstrips even the carpet of multi-colored leaves that blanket the holiday season.
I guess some things don't change after all.
Did you write this?
all I can say is "wow!" if you did...
This is great!
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