Sipping my grande london fog tea I notice myself checking out of the conversation, my ears start to hear every table around me...
Focus..
I keep hearing her words and as I take each new one in my heart aches, I can feel the pain.
The ugly pain of life.
How do you stay present with someone in a mess?
His heart is torn with love and compassion asking "How could I give up on you?"
When you just want to protect your heart from hurting along with them. To be that person that takes a private note writing things down in the soft dust not etching them in stone.
To love the way He has loved us.
Last sip of my tea everything in me wants to run, and not look back. I can not bear the though of watching again.... And then that still small voice says " Go and love her again"
Let her talk. Don't let her repress. It's her story. Her life. That's all we have is our story and the one who writes it. When we don't share our story it suffocates until we are dead.
Show love. Speak the truth.
Sometimes you have to be willing to stand in the dark to see that you’re a light.
You can only see your light is shining when you are standing in the dark.
2 comments:
Thank you for sharing that. I know sometimes it has been hard for me to share with people that have no idea, the ugly parts of my life and I tend to avoid it because of the reaction you spoke of.
Martha, I encourage you to talk to so someone that is safe. Someone that will listen. It is so very hard to be the listener, when all you want to do is fix it. But sometimes just listening is the most helpful.
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