I am pure. I am the purity of a hope conceived. I am untouched by the world, neither sinned against nor sinning. I am potential. I am a tiny spark that contains all the information and instructions of life. From infinitesimal beginnings I can become a giant, a genius, a saint, a loving servant, a leader of people, a devoted of God. I am blessing. I am the something that comes from nothing. The unexpected windfall. A blessing in disguise. I am light. I am energy with purpose. I am the gleam in your eye. The way to the future. You cannot see my colors yet, but I am the flower of you. I am perfect. There is perfection in me. Some of my parts are flawed, but my whole is at such a pinnacle of design and capability that it inspires awe in the world entire. Creation trembles at my revealing. I am the outpouring of powers beyond my control (and beyond yours, too). Plenipotentiary forces sought to bring about my being and thus I am. I am love. Already I understand, though my brain is not fully formed, that my essence is love. I am the expression of a universal, ecstatic, embracing Being of Love. This Being yearns for a reciprocal relationship with such aching, He brings me and all my brethren forth through drought, fire, flood, tumult, captivity and flight. Yea, even in the depths of despair will this Love assert itself, break through barriers, spring forth and bloom. I am steadfast. Of course, I know about your tears. When weeping racks your body the upheaval pulls at my delicate fabric. Yet I am softly snuggled in your warm, nourishing bed and the storm seems distant. My peace is not broken yet. I burrow deeper for security and trust you to carry me to safety. I will hold on. You hold on, too. I am hope. In time, I will give more than I take. And because of me, you will never be alone. Think ahead of the joy we will have together. Think ahead of the loneliness of old age, and banish your fears because I will be with you, and I will comfort you. I will fill your cup and place your feet on a soft stool so you may rest. We will help each other, in season, as it has been ordained. You will care for me, then I will care for you. I am yours. Mama, let me be born.  © 2006 by Cynthia Edwards. Permission to reprint granted. Credit required. |
