Out and Around

I feel healed. I feel like I might know what peace is--could be. I guess I feel joy. I feel my blood running without constriction, my lips tingling when they're supposed to, my eyes resting for sleep and not for escape. I am lifted up so that the weight I carry is still on my shoulders but I don't feel it. The weight is there to keep me focused, keep me grounded, keep me strong, but it doesn't make me slower or make me ache. I could give credit to her: her eyes, her touch, the lipstick on her teeth, her quiet voice--but she is only a gift and the giver is the true healer. I feel loved, then, not only by her, but especially by the giver because of her. I am loved. I am loved. I am trying to believe it. And I am gracious.

There is a certain liberty about writing my life into view of the entire world, all the while knowing that there is not a soul that will actually read it. It is almost as if I can make public confessions without the consequence of public humiliation. But I guess now, I just want to share my joy, my blessing, or acknowledge it as it leaves thoughts and becomes words. I have more to do for school than I have ever had before in my life. Essays that hang over my head, pressure me into lonely, closed in nights and paralyze my mind out of fear. But I'm blessed. I'm blessed to have a mind capable of accomplishment and the means to be able to attend a college. I am blessed because I was created, organized for victory. I was created to succeed. It kills me that I so often believe that I am organized for failure. But I'm blessed because I have discovered that this is a lie. I'm blessed. And I'll confess to this: I have the most incredible, hospitable, honest, strong, caring, Godly friends, far beyond the answer to any prayer I could pray. I am blessed. And it's snowing in Seattle.