Your holy journey moves as real ones do through holes and squelchy-squirchy mud, across rain-soaked grass and solid ground.
You approach the crossing.
Another moment after another moment, another year after another year of determining.
You are here.
And this day, you’ve got another opportunity to walk into unknown — all determined hesitation and hesitant determination. Shivering, squinting to see.
You’re at that intersection again with the chance to cross. Go a new way before you plow straight into it again. You don’t really know what’s on the other side. Only that your journey’s brought you here.
And you must cross.
Sometimes you just want to keep staring at those old scuffed, shuffle feet and stay put. But you look up, and you see grace painted blue, gold, white, flesh-tones, and it all beckons you forward.
You reach for a hand that helps you feel safe and stronger, and you’re feeling no shame, knowing you need it.
You keep your eyes up and put one shoe in front of the other to that new place. You begin crossing.
Lifting a foot at a time, breathing as you go.
You take what comes. You do what you do, like only you.
I see you now — holding a hope and future in that little knapsack of yours.
You are brave.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Oh I love this! Thank you Sis and gooooo mama!!!
Thank you. She was great, huh? Love you!
Your Mama was terrific! To paraphrase the legendary Yogi Berra who said when you get to the ‘Y’ in the road, take it! We are always facing choices.The route we choose is the one we dare, the one we have ‘faith’ in.
I love that Papa. The “route we choose is the one we dare.” Certainly scary risk involved but so good to take that “Y!”
Ashley, I know you didn’t write them just for me, but these words of yours speak to exactly where I was – “You don’t really know what’s on the other side. Only that your journey’s brought you here. And you must cross.” Full of an emptiness of knowledge I was! And yet I knew I had come “this far” and there was no question but that my other foot must take its turn. So, thank you for putting that place into words for me – and into a photograph too!
But even more personally noteworthy (for me) in this post is this:
“You reach for a hand that helps you feel safe and stronger, and you’re feeling no shame, knowing you need it.” I wonder if YOU know how often that hand for me has been YOURS.
I love you so dearly, and count you as an angel. Thank you so much dear girl for loving me so well. your mama, spree
Mama, your words touch me deeply. I love you and am so grateful to walk through this life holding your hand.