We shelter in the dust of emotion that has lit fires throughout our existence.

We go deeper into the darkness plowing through the mire to find familiarity in what we perceive is comfort.

Holding to any semblance or remembrance of hope, the ruins become our home in both heart and mind.

In time those ruins will crumble. It won’t be any external force of nature but a new fire being ignited as you hear the heavens call your name.

A door will rise from the dust and it will open, just enough for you to see a flicker of light.

You peer through the door and see a form you don’t yet recognize.

Could that be you?

Surrounding the form is a story, similar to the story you have been telling yourself only the ruins aren’t there anymore.

You begin to shake with an intensity of both courage and fear.

Do you stay or do you go?

The silence is so deafening that you feel the void with every breath you take.

You clasp your hands in prayer and ask God to give you strength.

You haven’t prayed in lifetimes, yet you are beginning to remember.

You reach for the handle and open the door a little wider.

Your heart pounds as sweat pours down your face, so frightened of losing the story which has kept you safe all these years, even if it was in the darkness.

Versions of your story flash through your mind, versions of yourself pass through your heart.

You keep telling yourself you can do this.

I believe you can.

Trembling, a voice whispers in your ear.

“You are my prayer. Your story is my light.”

You think it is a voice from the ethers but you turn around to see an old version of yourself.

A version that pushed you through the doorway to the other side.

You look around you and realized you are in the beginning of a new story.

You look at your old self, and with tears in your eyes and such gratitude in your heart, you tell them just how much they have been loved.