I often think, "this is not how it's supposed to be." "No, World. No, God. No, Universe, you got this one wrong." We plan, we coordinate, we line the pieces up ever so perfectly just to have them wiped up from their surface, tumble through air, falling one by one to the ground as it takes our breath.
"Surely, this can't be how it's supposed to be."
I'm embarrassed, because sometimes I feel really sorry for myself. Sometimes I feel abandoned by God... and that... that's the first time I've ever written that. So, I started screaming. Crying. "Show me you give a damn!" And then, again, just like the last time I threw my hands in the air and said "NO MORE!" ... There it was. That something that reminded me that love, and light, and realness, and magic, and safety... and hope... they're still here. Maybe you find it in sunshine, the way the clouds part in the sky. Maybe you find it in a raindrop, the very one that hits perfectly on the top of your nose. Maybe you see it in a loved one's eyes, the way they hold you, so your body can finally stop holding itself.
And so you remember, again and again. It all lives: above the rainfall, along the wind, and in your skin. Yes, your fear and pain live here, too; but trust me, the good stuff goes deeper. Living in your bones, ready to be called. Scream if you have to, but a whisper will do, too. "You are loved."