Thursday, August 29, 2013

Open Arms

(Those awkward arms; I never know where to put them.) Blogging more of the retreat. This is from one of Saturday's free writes:

She Waits For Open Arms

I fold my arms across my chest.

When I speak; when I listen.

I fold my arms across my chest.

Is it to protect my heart?

Can I somehow keep the wounding words at bay? Am I shielding the vulnerable? Or holding myself back?

I fold my arms across my chest.

I tremble to think of letting Brave out; letting her speak the bold words that could boomerang back to pierce me.

< She is a tired soul. She longs for rest. >

I fold my arms, bracing myself to sit straight. The core is weak, and cries for help. The core begs a crutch, and it is in easy reach. But strength will not be found until I learn.

To sit up for myself.

To speak for myself.

To be brave, for myself.

When I fold my arms across my chest, will you reach out with your hands, to beckon my grasp?

< She cannot hold or be held until she learns to let go of her own shoulders. She clings to the small child within. She waits, waits for those open arms that say “Come. You are wanted here. You fit in my embrace. You will not be left out.” >

< "Free yourself, my child. Fall into grace. Let Love love you." >

I fold my arms around my Hope. Love let in is the strength of my core.

1 comment:

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.