The longer I practiced this new way of praying, of
listening, of dwelling deeply in God’s love, the more I
began to feel truly present, instead of being hijacked a
thousand times a day by my wild mind. I feel all here,
collected together in a wide-eyed and able way. Simple
presence. Wholeheartedness. Patience. Lack of paralyzing
fear.
I feel, frankly, like the kind of mom and wife and friend
I’ve wanted to be for a long time. Most of my regrets center
around getting overwhelmed or stuck in my own head,
worried and catastrophizing, endless loops of proving and
shame, pushing and exhaustion.
I’m thankful for that day, weaving through the tunnels
with my precious boy, when the violence inside me became
profound enough to shake me into new solutions. That’s
how we grow, it seems; that’s how we submit ourselves to
the miraculous, by swimming through the tunnels.
grace
(Grace)
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