Tears

The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. ~John Vance Cheney

Last night I had so many tears. I felt so lost. So unsure. So filled with negative self-talk. So desperate. Of course I was on my period so my tears should have lightened up over that blessing from above, but alas, as PMSing so often does - it didn't allow for that.

My mom was there for me. I'm sure she felt helpless as to what to do, but really she gave me the same response as anyone in crisis can only hope to have - she listened. And after she listened she was there to build me back up; to help me see what my closed eyes couldn't, or wouldn't, see - the positives of my life; my meaning, even in its small sphere of influence.

I went to bed and thirteen hours later woke up and I was ready to move some mountains!

I'm not giving up. I've said before that this story is my story and I'll know when it's over. Well, after thirteen hours of sleep, some meditation, and some time watching the moon and stars move across the the western sky my soul knows that my story is just not even close to being finished.

But just because my soul knows something doesn't mean I know it, so it just barely lightens my "load." What does lighten my "load" is that God says that I only need the faith of a mustard seed to move mountains. And I always know that I have the capacity of at least that much faith; that mustard seed is just itsy bitsy!

Part of me wishes I was reading someone elses' story; one where the beginning, the middle and the end was already written and my eyes just lead me across the page taking in the plot and all its dramatic twists and turns, but the other part of me feels the excitement of being that blank page ready to be filled in with plots left to be determined...