Your Very Flesh Shall Be a Poem

So it’s another Saturday night. And predictably, you can find me tucked in the corner of a coffee shop, reading and thinking and writing. (I’m fighting against the nagging feeling of being less valid for being alone on a Saturday evening, but it’s all good.)

Really, it actually really is. Good.

I looked up from the daily grind recently and was caught off guard by the happiness that had been quietly keeping me company. A heaviness, heartache, and a state of “crisis” had been such a constant companion for so long, that it was a shock to notice it had left.

Yes, there are moments of loneliness, self doubt, and messiness, and it’s honestly not where I thought I’d be, but life is good right now. There is much to be grateful for, and in His gracious kindness, God has opened my eyes to the gift of this current, blessed, uncomplicated season I am in right now.

Oddly, I find myself searching for a crisis. I think that I feel more valid when I have an issue that I have to work through- soul searching to occupy my mind and introspection to indulge in. How funny- am I really that stubbornly discontent? Yes.

I’m learning to take myself less seriously. Becoming less shocked at my own depravity and more quick to trust His sovereignty.  And that is not from my own efforts. It is a gift. I am aware that this sweet, uncomplicated season won’t last, and that’s ok. But I don’t want to miss out on the depth and richness in wholehearted living right now in this season because of this bracing myself for some theoretical impending pain. Choosing to become an expert in the the ways that life is beautiful, and dismissing that which insults my own soul.

walt whitman

Art by Sabrina Ward Harrison

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