Thankfulness rises and catches in my throat. So many broken things being made new. Joy being restored. Love revealed.
T.S. Eliot writes, “Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement.” I don’t know if I agree. I see Love moving. But perhaps it is the movement that I see, and Love the cause and, I hope, the end.
Someone I love so much is seeking to grow in love and self-acceptance. Has boldly declared the words:
Who I am as a person will not change. The things I like, what I enjoy, what I do will not change. But what will change is that I will love myself more. I will accept myself more.
And my heart overflows because I want to yell scream shout “be careful what you write because those words just may come true–those unconscious prayers leaking through your fingertips.”
I write it, too. I’ve written it, too. In journals and post it notes and napkin slivers and emails to myself.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
And somehow those words, snuck in to an internal world of doubt and self-hatred, are enough to let the light shine through.
Be careful what you write, because it might just come true.
And what a joy that would be. A love revelation. A freedom to be comfortable in your own skin. A love that transforms from within and can’t help but spill out.
Could my own journey of loving myself more lead others to love themselves more?
It’s too much. Thankfulness rises and catches in my throat.
And I have to say, Love is on the move.