I feel like I’m a soft, glowing light. A night light nestled in a quiet corner or a candle flickering next to window revealing silent rain. An undeniable hum of peace spreads throughout the corridors of my heart. Deep, dark, terrible places touched by the orange edge of the glow. The glow. It’s not so bad being alone with myself anymore. It’s getting easier to tap comfort. It’s getting easier to connect with God. Let Him be praised.

My scales are continually falling away in Him. My bad habits are all but drying up and breathing away. Thunder is rumbling in the distance. A future lies there. Just over the horizon. Just around the bend. Change thickens the air. Fall is coming. My mighty oak will shed its leaves and begin again.

I am remembering slowly that there are delicate things in life. Tiny things, beautiful things. Fragile dioramas. Sssssh. Silent snowflakes are descending all around us. Each one holds a spectrum – a kaliedoscope of wonder for us to know love by. A heart mends itself in a secret place. A place of peace and rest, a garden of soft green things where ivy tendrils dangle still.

Sometimes I remember a house with white lace curtains. The light is fresh yellow gray. The curtains billow in the breeze. The music rustles at the piano. Black and shimmering. I can see the dust floating softly in sudden rays of light. The smell of the season tickles my nostrils. I can see pictures of loved ones I’ve never met. I can hear distant laughter. Peace lives here. I recline in it.

Life is never what you want for yourself. Give it up. It’s always so much better. Praise God.

I’m a moonlit pool now. Come and dip your fingers. I’m waiting.