Love. The only thing that really matters in the end. It wakes us up each morning with a hopeful start. It’s the setting sun on each day as we relish in its warm glow.
But what happens when we don’t have love? When it evades our best efforts to find it in someone else or in the world?
Perhaps we need to stop looking in the wrong places for it.
It can’t truly be found in the arms of another if it’s not first in ourselves. A mother’s love is unfinished if
Too often the fate of our love is left up to another. Not knowing where to turn next, we desperately seek anything resembling that feeling inside. We find a little piece of it in our shoes and matching bag, the season’s latest shade, and style. But we don’t go looking for it in its home. The place it’s always resting
Love can take care of that if we let it. But we rarely do. We don’t want to admit what hides there much less face it. What if someone finds out what I’ve done? What will they think of me? No one must know.
And so we bury it deeper. Deeper under the burden of life it sinks. Like a time capsule longing to see the light of day. It waits.
It waits for us to realize that a piece of us lies in it. Without which we’ll never be complete. Until the day comes it must be set free. By us, by another, rarely does it find its final resting place.
And when this time comes, what will you do? Will you deny it and shove it back down? Will you embrace it as the gift of healing springs forth?
Only you can name it friend or foe. When the time comes, you will know what to do.
For it’s the gift of yourself hiding amongst the chards of choices past. Traces of who you once were. And
Get out your flashlight and start searching in the dark for what you hold most dear. It is there you will rekindle the gift of who you really are.