‘Should’ is a dangerous word. It can entangle one through so many barbs and wayward leads.
I have so many blessings….so I shouldn’t feel like I am lacking, like I am empty somehow.
You have a lot going for you. You should feel grateful.
You should smile more. Whatever is going on, you should just be able to let it go.
I am surrounded by amazing people, I shouldn’t feel lonely. How is that fair?
We’re finally back to familiar. We should just move on.
You should just stop thinking about it. If you stop, you’ll feel better.
I took time away from some social media. I was in the midst of feeling pressed from every side, unsure the reasons or the results and something tangible needed to give, to change, to free up the staleness and allow me to breathe unpolluted air.
So I chose one small entity I had control over, and walked away for just a while. Just to recalibrate.
During this choice of absence I was staying at a friend’s house, sitting for home and dog while they were away. The setting was just what my heart needed. Quiet. Solitude.
No further distractions to entice me away from what I truly needed: to stop to listen to speak
I am as this tree (which sits near the front yard of her house).
Bent. Askew. Trying to right itself back how it was meant to grow. Ever-arching towards its nourishment. The light that gives its color, its height, its age and promise of new days.
I walked towards her, this tree, one sunset. Determined to breathe in my favorite therapy – the scenes of nature. Of the symphony of a stirring world. Coming not from beeps, machines or systems, but from whirring wings and cricket calls and leaves shaking against one another in rustling harmony as wind joins chorus.
My soul finds rest in God alone.
I will not be shaken.
Though when I find myself shaking and shivering and wondering,
I will stop and sing and join the song of worship.
To how I am fashioned, built, strung together as an instrument. Carefully, intently.
And I will bend, but not break.
I will be hard pressed, but not crushed.
I will often be perplexed, yet never destroyed.
For I am in the hands of The I Am. From His hands. Remaining in His hands. At rest.
And I will stop agonizing over what I should feel, attend to, behave like. What face I should wear to steady the boat, not to rock it.
I will attend, instead, to what I am. I will listen to Who I should. I will try to brave the speaking, the writing, the hearing.
And I will not have to beg for the audience of someone who loves me, for He begs for mine. He sought me. He pursues me still. He sees my bending and calls it beautiful. He waits. He rises and sets to show me glorious sights.