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vintage-1960s-lace-up-boots

Photo Credit: boyswithbanjos

Beloved~

I see you.

I see your tender heart.

I feel your agonizing pain.

I see you alone in the corner lacing up your boots for the weekend. You are intent to pull yourself up by your bootstraps. I hear you mutter under your breath,

“I just need to make it to Monday.”

Beloved, please—take the boots off.

The laces will only cut deeper. The heel will only bring heaviness to your steps. Take the boots off. Stop pretending. Stop numbing. Stop willing yourself to survive another Mother’s Day.

Take the boots off—and fall into Me. I will carry you through—I promise. You are safe with Me. I will hold you as you rant, cry, and scream out, “It’s not fair.”

No—Beloved, it’s not.

But I am here with you.

Allow My touch to heal you, My breath to breathe life into you, My love to refresh you.

You are not alone in your pain. You are never alone.

Beloved, I am here {always}.

~

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