two / twenty-two

in the past month, so much of what i thought i knew has been shaken to its core. the beautiful structures of my inner city have fallen. it's taken all my strength to pull out of the debris and breathe again.

now everything is level. i'm starting over. i shield my eyes against the brightness and swivel my gaze. i realize i can see for miles in every direction.

i have been stripped bare --- of love, self-acceptance, trust. slowly these things are being returned to me by a hand so kind and knowing it is impossible to receive from it without tears.

i have nothing. my heart is often apart from me, not in my own chest but searching for, calling out to, another. my mind is both sharp and dull with questions, accusations, and hypothetical situations. so if not my physical body or my mental calm, what do i have?

i have a spirit which burns without my cultivation or consent. its flame is kept by the same hands that are rebuilding my landscape and my soul. i leave it alone to die and wander by days later to find it still alive. in fact, i find it better than i left it. i wonder, who has been feeding me, who has been bringing water to my lips, who would dare interfere with my plans to sabotage myself?

of course: the one who made me, knows me, and finds me worth saving.
the one whose voice is all at once a mighty shout and the quietest,
most compelling whisper.

and so in the lonely wasteland, the wake of an ending, with nothing but solitude and bittersweet memory, i find myself. i am face to face with God --- he has been waiting to be found. i have tripped on the edge of his garment. i am being healed. i am stumbling into an abundance greater than the emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole. he has taken hold of me. he is not letting go.

i am here.
i am going to make it.