Red door photo by bfick (flickr) Hot tears slam my cheeks, slide down, rivers of unbidden emotion.

I’m shocked at their appearance–hot lava exploding from a mountain that had just been covered in daisies.

I slip into a bathroom stall, place my head in my hands, sniffle into a square of paper. That year…so good, so hard.

I feel more like a warrior than a writer.

My heart has the scars to prove it.

But then, softly, a whisper comes to my heart, “Put down your sword.”

And I notice, for the first time, how my heart has stood in ready-to-fight position for so long, stiff, waiting to dodge the next blow.

I relent. And something inside clatters to the ground. I see the wounds, still fresh, not noticed in the heat of the battle. I touch them tentatively. Cover protectively.

Then again, softly within…

“If I will wash your feet, will I not wash your wounds?”

I have a choice. Drop my guard or guard my hurts.

I choose the first.

And His hand touches all that aches, His voice whispers truth, His love wipes around, over, down.

It stings a little. I flinch with old fear.

But slowly I relax, lean into Him, remember the time before the war and I know it is finished.

No longer a warrior.

I’m a child, small, safe, with Daddy’s hands making it all better.

Victory.

Surrender.

I leave the bathroom stall, finally, look into clear eyes in the mirror.

And I am never the same again.

Would you like to Subscribe by Email?

 

About Holley

About Holley

Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author and Life Coach

I like humans, words, and good coffee. And I’d love to help you beat what’s holding you back, become all you’re created to be, and kick butt for the greater good.

Cheering you on,

Holley

Search by Category

What % Introvert Are You?

 My 1-Minute Quiz Will Tell You

New Book You’ll Love!

Get the Book

Writing Course for You!