Yet as beautiful as this scene is, and how I am a small, breathing part of it, I do not sit satisfied. God and I, we have been exploring the inner-yearnings of my heart, gently exploding truths into me and safely exposing my desires, my needs, the longings I have long locked dormant. This is self-discovery in this raw form, rare bones of breathing in the new tears in my universe that free me from bondage and into acceptance that this humanness—this womanhood—is actual design and deemed okay from my Creator. Because He knows how I am made—He wired me this way—and I am, for the first time in my scared, shriveled life and always afraid to reattach with my heart, allowed to let these longings in, rub them around my fingers and pull my ear close to listen to what they have to say.
Sometimes alone no longer is enough. When I have a God-placed hunger within for communion, for connection, for the pull of my soul towards another’s, I am taking this new trail as far as it will carry me.
Wind runs its hands along the grass, cups my face. Errant bikers pedal slow and lazy, nowhere intentional to be. The hair on my skin trembles like antennas for my insides. For the length of my years alone has been alright with me. But not today. Not any longer.
Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires, Song of Songs 2:7 reminds me. But it has woken me, and I never noticed its wings unfurl until the pressing beat has brushed my heart alive.
My lungs inflate, balloon against my rib cage, slowly settle. Faith. Hope. Love. But the greatest of these is love, which is calm, patient, kind, always trusting.
Movement in the water. Sparks on the shore. Stirring in the air, circling my heart. Fluid patterns dripped into this mysterious current, one I am willing and eager to lift into and be carried closer to you.