In the Quiet

Life is incredibly hectic as I navigate its murky waters.  I still can’t see, but I’m trying to.

I’m squinting through the twilight.  Light has permeated the dark skies and I’ve grown accustomed to the weight of my tragedy.  It doesn’t feel as heavy anymore.

I am always slightly sad.  Always confused, overwhelmed, hopeful and dejected, and it’s often all at once.  I still run on the treadmill and I feel my soul creep to the back of my brain and rest there.  She hides or sleeps or just takes a break while my body takes over–heart and feet pounding in symphony.

When I’m done running, my soul tiptoes back out to join the world again.

She is timid and shy and uncertain, but she shouldn’t be.

She told me something in a moment of deep stillness.  And it has stayed in my heart and my mind ever since.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t the truth that crushed us.

It was the lies.

The truth is nowhere near as scary as the lies were.

Every person who hears the story goes through a process.  And what I see them grapple with the most, the thing that brings out visible fear and devastation, are the lies.

The truth as a stand alone thing is difficult.

But what no one can understand, the thing that leaves a dark cold hole in the heart, is the deceit.

And as awful as it can sometimes be, I have been liberated from the lies.

As I move through this process of squinting through the haze, my soul reminds me every day to seek the truth.  My truth.  God only knows what that is.

May we all be free of the lies we tell others, or tell ourselves.  They do nothing but harm.  And the truth we are trying to cover up is the only thing that will set us free.







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