Pressed against her I can hear eternity -- hollow, lonely spaces and currents that churn ceaselessly, and the fallen snow welcomes the falling snow with a whispered "Hush".
We experience a discomfort that may be foreign to others, but that pain opens up a world of beauty. Wouldn't you think?
I wanted a heaven. And I grew up striving for that world-- an eternal world- that would wash away my temporary misery.
Something about being rejected at Church Camp felt so much more awful than being rejected at school.
Except heaven is a hope , and eden is a memory .
How satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement - no matter how temporary.
Shame is always easier to handle if you have someone to share it with.
