You took me to a valley, a deep, dark, ominous land. You pointed the way and asked me to go through. You made it clear that only I could walk through it, alone, but you weaved character and stamina of heart together with thread and twine of pain and hope. The twine seems so harsh and hard, rough, painful as it cuts into the heart beating flesh, but the thread is fine, gold laced, with soothing salve that brings peace with every beat.
It is velvety soft, but iron clad, happy yet sad, good and bad, all at the same time.
And now, You tell me:
Go now through the dark place. I will not carry you, nor walk for you, for you alone must take the steps. You must both descend, and climb, the rugged trail. Know this, however, know that I number your steps as I do your days. You lift your foot. I’ll light your path. You take the steps. I’ll guide your way. Continue reading The Valley Waits