goodness is doing its work in me, and it’s face looks a lot like trial.
every time I go to the beach I spend the first day clinging to the sand. terrified of the waves and the way they crash, white foam sputtering, into themselves. flinging bits of sand and seaweed into the salty air. thrashing upon the shore like violent fists coming down hard on a pillow of gritty sand.
perhaps it’s childish. perhaps I’m just not very brave.
but they scare me at first. every time. no matter how old I get.
I imagine getting thrashed and pummeled by those angry fists of water and foam. imagine getting dragged like a rake through turbulent under-currents. just thinking about it sends little spurts of anxiety, like lightning, through my chest.
ah, yes. goodness is doing its work in me, and it feels a lot like being drowned, sputtering and gurgling, to the bottom of a swirling ocean.
and if I’m honest… the shore feels so much safer, so much objectively smarter, so much kinder to a battered & waterlogged heart.
but the sand is only smooth from being softened.
and I am only gentle from being rubbed the wrong way till all my sharp edges are gone. Continue reading “SOFTENED LIKE SAND”