Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things – with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing, serene hope. – Corazon Aquino
I stood in our driveway watching the late night skies brew overhead. Wishing I’d walked out into rain, but the wind alone rustled our Palms, the Mesquite across the street, and the city’s Palo Verdes that turn the ground bright yellow during spring.
I rested there in the howling wind and on concrete still hot enough from the day’s sun to burn the bottoms of my feet, and in one deep breath I was overcome with a sense that all was going to be okay.
Not the storm that I wanted to drench us. Not the wind rattling the foliage, but our lives. Shawn’s and mine. All the questions we have, the dreams, the goals, the things we want more than anything may never happen….but it will all be okay.
It’s taken me a while of course to get here. To begin to accept this, the okayness of the outcome.
If you’ve been knocked down you know it can be difficult to not only stand back up, but not to expect that around every corner you’ll find yourself back down on the ground.
I’ve had a good run of hope lately. I’ve allowed myself not to get depressed that things in our lives aren’t moving at the pace I’d really really like them to. And perhaps this is because things have been moving forward. Even baby steps feel like giant steps when you’ve never taken any.
This week has been one of the harder one’s in the past couple of months. The anger simmering again. My hope taking a beating. I’m not perfect at this. I’m still learning. I’m still learning that just because things aren’t going according to my plan, hope isn’t failing.
So I’m trying to hold onto that howling night. Where the wind whipped my hair a tizzy, where whispered in the currents of the air was a promise that everything would be okay.
note: i started this post about a month ago. it’s taken some time for me to be able to write out what now needed to be said. that night was windy and rain seemed promising, but never came. tonight (08.16.12) as i finished the post, proofed, & got ready to schedule it to publish, i heard the faint tinklings of rain drops meeting up with concrete. i was over joyed. i rushed outside just to stand in it. tonight was a reminder that what was whispered last month still holds true tonight. i even took my art journal out in the rain and captured some of this promise on her pages.