We are waiting for an adventure, to be swept up in a swirl of story, a fairy tale with singing animals and a dashing prince to claim us as his own.
But we are timid. Afraid of all that pulses beneath our veins and afraid to want too much. When we find we are tumbling down a hill of hope, we tilt our head to the sky and watch the clouds spin together. We are childlike, barely breathing for fear one loud exhale might send the whole glass house we’re living in shattering to the ground.
So we step cautiously over the line, crossing into our vulnerability and exposing the underbelly shadows of belief. Sometimes, it is beautiful. A rainbow across the air, a smile sewn on our face. And other times, we are broken, defeated, torn with a realization that there is no happy ending in this fantasy. And we crawl under covers in the secret of our room, turn our face into the soft scent of sadness and mourn for the loss of our heart.
Why are we wired so? To long for love and seek it in the tiniest cracks of our shaking hearts? Our bodies are cool with a yearning for fire.
Yet there is a burning in us all. A raw, ripping desire to be found, taken up in strong arms and never released. To know that someone sees our faults, our quirks, the bruises beneath our skin, and turns them beautiful. Unique. Befitting to us, and only us.
We wait. Wait when the world tells us it is foolish to wish on wings of angels for something heavenly. Our expectations are too high, and if we stack them up again the weight will bring them barreling down. But the tiny torch within won’t falter, won’t lose its oxygen and fold into itself, into darkness. Because somehow, against all odds, against all reason, we are dreamers. And we sit in our towers, hair blown about the wind and belief on our breath, facing the horizon, watching for that prince in the distance, for his galloping horse rushing closer and closer. And when he dismounts, eyes upward and tangled in ours, we will know that our time in the tower is up. That it’s time to fly, feel the flush of forever on our face.
There is reality in this undaunted delight. A true castle in the sky, where a dashing Prince is preparing to profess His devotion to His bride to be.
Let’s hold hope. Hold on to the promise that the best is yet to come. There is a Man who will wait for us, who will always be captivated by our softly breathing heartstrings and the connecting corners of our soul. Who will fight for us and draw us to His side. For He desires His Beloved, and no other will do. Because He knows we are worth it.