Sunday, Rallying Words Vol. 4
There’s nothing about ‘eyes wide open, can’t see anything’ trusting that is easy. I’ve found myself sitting on benches, on the corner of beds, in the middle of bathtubs whispering “trust” like it’s a one word prayer.
The kind of prayer that speaks to the child you once were, the one that you hug from time to time now because you’re living their dreams. Your practice of trusting in the dark has payed off in dividends that speak to that child’s deepest wishes. It speaks to the times they sat in the dark and spoke to their God about bigger dreams than dolls and cars. It fills that darkness, not with light, but with hope.
Trusting in the dark is meant to be believed and practiced. Hand in hand, like the way your fingers and theirs are intertwined even during the most fragile of moments. Squeezing every couple of seconds to remind yourself you can still will your grip to tighten, on command.
That single word prayer speaks to the hope that the world outside of you can’t beat to the ground. It’s the little bit of you that trusts that you’re in it for the long haul.
It’s the prayer that lets you sit thigh to thigh next to your biggest fear and still believe you’re going to come out winning.
To trust in the dark is to trust that you’re equipped to wage war against the moments that try you. Because you are. You have strong shoulders, a back that doesn’t give out at the first sign of trouble, legs that can carry you through the mud. You’ve invested in relationships that will serve as crutches or speedboats if the getaway needs to be a quick one.
You’re loved and the weight of that is felt every time “trust” is murmured like a prayer.