I’m okay physically. Mentally, I’m coming out of survival mode. I woke up last night reaching for a flashlight I no longer need. I rode to town yesterday, and as I looked around, how I have power and water is a miracle. I open up to write and tears flow. Tears of relief and guilt mix. I asked my therapist how long this would last. Her guess. A while. I prayed for one week for power, and one the seventh day, He delivered. Honestly, I doubted after day two, but God was showing me something. I’m strong. You do things you never thought you would.
I got rid of so many undergarments. Please don’t think going to the bathroom outdoors is an easy task for everyone. My pride had to go. Doing laundry by hand is exercise. The washing machine is a luxury. I know now why on the seventh day rest is commanded.
I have power and water. Gratitude holds new meaning. I will continue writing, I don’t know how it will look.
Grace
What
I need
As I move forward
Not forgetting
That suffering
Happens every day
Yet we persist
My life
Not my own
Anymore
Dreaming of
Exotic places
And wild spaces
Yet knowing
The next steps
Will require
Courage
Navigating
Silver spooned
Blue blooded
Nature doesn’t discriminate
Until the fire
Refines you
Compassion
Is not a given
When the
Trials of humanity
Come to the door
Yours
Do you
Give freely
Willingly
And without pretense
What seven days
Shows
Is change happens
Even as our
Eyes are
Wide open
Gratefulness
And grief
Intertwine
Positivity
Meets reality
In a delicate dance
I never wanted
To partake in
from R's rue https://ift.tt/EGqlmWR
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