It’s in the gentle healing you didn’t know outside could bring. The hustle of the birds, the breeze disturbing branches, awakened by spring. It’s realising, though you’ve been lonely, you are truly not alone.
It’s in learning that there’s still a way. That in this concrete, unchangeable circumstance, there is hope for beauty. That hope is fragile, fluid even, but waves erode stone.
It’s in the broken moments you can whisper I understand, when God takes your hurt to help another; when all is redeemable and nothing is wasted.
Linking up for Five Minute Friday