I close my eyes for a moment and feel the physical burn of weariness from the past few days. I am thankful to be closing up this day - the sort of day that holds a certain, unseen weight to it. The sort of day where I am aware of sirens everywhere - fire trucks, police cars, and most terrifyingly - ambulances. The sort of day where I feel close to tears at any given moment, though it is not certain why. My insecurities rise to the surface and, though I try hard to place a veil over them, it's like trying to hide behind a lamppost. The clouds toss back and forth the idea of darkness and storm, never quite sure of whether the coin is face up or tail up.
Though I try in great effort on some days to fight it, today I have given into the unseen heaviness that has seemingly slowed my steps to a crawl. I want so badly to believe that it does not exist, that it is all in my head - that I am strong enough to take on the blues in the front lines of battle. That nothing is too great to defeat me, especially something I don't even have a name for.
But no, I am only foolish enough to believe that I am invincible, that a weight cannot add pounds to my day - that I, alone, am strong enough to take on anything at any given season in my life with ease.
And I rest alone in the knowledge that my Father does not despise a bruised spirit, but cradles it like a father holding a child with scraped up knees.
Like a father waiting with open arms to a wander-lusting son, saying, "Come on, let's get the pig slop off of you. I've got a feast prepared."
Like a gardener waiting for a seed to break through the soil, patient as I am having to grow; unsure of what I will be.
I rest alone in the Loving Arms that take my bruised spirit and tell me that these bruises do not hold their sway forever. That I am not forgotten and left for dead. That I am still breathing, still filled with Life.
And life is exactly what I need to reminded of today.