february.

I’m grateful for the little things. The quiet things. The things in life that so often we choose to forget or tend to ignore. I’ve come to acknowledge that often times it’s the small things in life that remind us of the very heart of joy, and of who we were created to be. The end of the month carries with it the promise of a new beginning with even more stories to tell. Yet, a month like this has always been heavy regardless of how far and long I’ve tried to overlook it.

This past week was a week of forgotten heavy; a reminder that when it rains, it naturally pours. I found myself returning to spaces that I had long forgotten. A space of grief and sorrow. A past season of lament. Somehow, the mourning I once left behind continues to find me, like the despondent sunrise; a skin that covers me with a recognizable and unshakable familiarity. I find myself loathing once more my somewhat magnetic attraction towards grief and large emotion, but understand through the quiet process, that perhaps it is a blessing in many retrospects, to be able to hold emotions and spaces larger than my own.

In a week where there has been much to reflect and find courage in, I am grateful for the Spirit-led whispers that continue to keep me standing in a courage that I would not otherwise have. The once held heavy become less so as we learn to be unafraid of a road often and repeatedly travelled. That through the grace of God, a comfort and rest found comes beyond expectation or imagination from the return to the heart of who we were created to be. I have come to question my intentionality and generosity in love, as I’ve realized lately how small and timid it has shrunk to with the retraction of all that it once used to hold.

I have come to appreciate the places that grief has taken me through, and the revelation that comes as joy meets light for the very first time, and darkness becomes all but a shadow of what used to be. His light will forever be an anchor amid the wrestle, and a peace, soft and slow that holds me through all that is to come. I have learnt to not be as fearful of the grief that perhaps may come my way, and understand that I have grown more than capable, in His teaching to arrive at my spaces as I need to, and hold space as I need to by His Spirit prompting. That the grief that once frightens me no longer does so, and in return am being prepared for something perhaps greater to come.