Hail

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.