Raindrops

How frequent do we ever get to sit and talk? We are perpetually running errands, doing something--busy busy busy, ignore ignore ignore, go go go, run run run--we never can grasp that little sliver of time just to sit down, face-to-face and talk.

Maybe that is why we sometimes find it awkward to be sitting right before a person, in flesh and blood, talking. Our whole lives are run by technology, so much so that we start blaming lack of communication on it.

Miscommunication. Words left unsaid. Reeling for a long time. Sitting in the darkness, perhaps we will get to understand each other so much better. Who knows.

There's much to heal in this world. For every wound that refuses to heal. For every angel that falls from the sky. For every hurt that hides beneath fragile wings. There's much to heal.

And so we turn to those we love and wonder, how can I make her see? That the key to her own happiness is within. We ask, how can I help her get through the pain? How can I mend the heart that shattered into a thousand little pieces? How can I make her see life is worth living again?

I sit with myself and the words echo in my mind. I cannot heal in others what is wounded in me.

I sit with myself and find faith. Faith that can see. It is the candle that glows in the dark. It is faith that tells me there is no need to suffer in spite of the pain, no need to lose myself when sorrow comes my way. That which tells me to be brave so I can inspire others to do the same. I am no longer blinded. I sit with myself and know. That in spite of all the hurt and sadness that creep their way in, life remains beautiful. Because I let it.

It has started to rain. No more rumbling. Just soft tears, pelting against my window.